


Day and Night, Story Two: Night Watch

by stargatefan_archivist



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst, Drama, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-04-08
Updated: 2004-04-08
Packaged: 2018-10-07 11:33:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 54,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10359486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stargatefan_archivist/pseuds/stargatefan_archivist
Summary: SPOILERS : Season 1: Torment of Tantalus. Season 3: Legacy. Season 5: Menace, Meridian. Season 6: Abyss, Changeling, Full Circle. Season 7: Fallen, Orpheus, Birthright.SUMMARY : Following the opening of a major SGC memorial, Daniel struggles with his dual identity as the Man in Black and risks his life to shed that alter-ego.WARNING : Mature themes. Violence.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Yuma, the archivist: this work was originally archived at [Stargatefan.com](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Stargatefan.com). To preserve the archive, we began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [StargateFan Archive Collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/StargateFan_Archive_Collection).

Stargate SG-1 | Gen Fanfiction | Day and Night, Story Two: Night Watch

##  Day and Night, Story Two

## Night Watch

##### Written by Lady Grey   
Comments? Write to us at [grey_lady@hotmail.com](mailto:grey_lady@hotmail.com)

  * SPOILERS : Season 1: Torment of Tantalus. Season 3: Legacy. Season 5: Menace, Meridian. Season 6: Abyss, Changeling, Full Circle. Season 7: Fallen, Orpheus, Birthright. 
  * SUMMARY : Following the opening of a major SGC memorial, Daniel struggles with his dual identity as the Man in Black and risks his life to shed that alter-ego. 
  * WARNING : Mature themes. Violence. 
  * PG-13 [D] [A] 



* * *

Daniel pulled the pillow over his head as the alarm clock went off, his body curling up into a ball of pain. 

_It's just an inspection, he told himself. I can call in sick and hide here in my quarters until it's over. They don't need me to tell some political types how important this program is. If the idiots don't already get that, my opinion won't push them over the edge._

He reached out and shut off the alarm, burrowed deeper into his covers and went back to an exhausted sleep.

~~**~~

"Get up, Daniel."

_Why am I dreaming about Jack?_ Daniel wondered. The voice sounded again, pushing him toward wakefulness. He fought it, clutching his pillow harder. At least he thought it was his pillow. His mind was so fogged, he couldn't tell.

"Come on, Daniel. Up and at `em! Big doin's today."

Someone was shaking his shoulder. He groaned and swatted at the hand without opening his eyes, but the offending hand was insistent. "I'm awake," he growled from under the pillow.

"No, you're not. Get up."

Instinctively Daniel sat up, swinging his legs off the side of the bed. He didn't bother opening his eyes, just waited for whoever was annoying him to go away. That damned hand caught him by the wrist and pulled him to his feet.

Daniel forced his bleary eyes open, feeling as if someone had poured sand in them or set them on fire. Or both. "God, Jack, what are you _doing_ here? It's the middle of the night," he groused, and turned around to crawl back into bed.

Jack caught him by the arm and started to haul him upright again.

Daniel twisted effortlessly out of his grip, bringing his right arm upward, then swinging both arms around to give his tormentor a good shove. He was on one knee on the bed when the impatient colonel caught him roughly by the wrist and held on so tightly it hurt.

Edging toward angry now, Daniel glared at the intruder, barely cracking his eyes open in the brightness of his room. "Leave me alone. I'm calling in sick today."

"Not today, Daniel," Jack returned, crossing his arms over his brown cable-knit sweater. "Inspection, remember? Everybody at their stations early in the day to answer questions as the tours come through. You gotta go, too. You can come back and lie down afterward." He frowned, hands moving down to his sides. "Or would you rather go to the infirmary? You look like shit."

"Oh, thanks. I needed to hear that right about now," Daniel shot back sarcastically. 

He turned around, dug into the nightstand drawer for his migraine medication, slipped his glasses on his face and started shuffling toward the door with the colonel in his wake. "I really don't feel like doing this, Jack."

"Suck it up and do it anyway." Jack's voice was gentle. His hand patted Daniel's shoulder in sympathy, shepherding him toward the locker room.

"Come on, we'll get you some meds for the hangover—"

"I don't have a hangover." He held up the blister pack of Imitrex nasal spray.

"Migraine?"

Daniel nodded, squinting gaze on the floor. Mindlessly, he opened the packet, tipped his head back, and shot the spray into his nostril. The terrible flavor upset his stomach instantly and the corridor lighting was still way too bright. He squinted down at the floor, the empty package in one hand and the plastic delivery device in the other.

"Bad one?" asked Jack softly, a note of sympathy in his voice.

Daniel closed his eyes and nodded, letting Jack lead him down the corridor. "Oh, yeah. Feels like my head is gonna explode." His hands came up to his head, massaging his forehead and temples with the heels of his palms. He staggered a little as he rounded the corner into the locker room and tossed the packaging into the nearest waste bin.

"Maybe we should just go straight to the infirmary," Jack amended, his voice filled with concern as he put hands on Daniel's shoulders to steady him.

"I'll make it, Jack," he growled. "Just let me get a shower, and I'll be fine."

"Okay." Jack patted him again, and he let him shuffle the rest of the way by himself. "I'll be right out here if you need me. Gotta change for the big day."

Daniel grunted an acknowledgment and listlessly padded into the shower room. He peeled off his clothes, surprised to find himself still wearing the clothes he'd worn the previous day, and turned on the tap, bracing himself against the wall while the water heated up. Once it was properly warm, he stepped under it. The spray helped him wake up. By the time he finished, wrapped up in his robe and returned to the locker room for his clothes, he saw Jack now dressed in his Class A's, pacing the floor and waiting on him.

"I'm okay, Jack," he told the other man, grateful for his concern. The medication for his migraine had kicked in while he'd been in the shower, and he did feel a little better. He felt as if he could sleep for a month, but he was now reasonably awake and ready for another day. "You go do your colonel stuff and get ready for the bigwigs."

Jack gave him a little nod, looked him over, and headed for the door. "This is important stuff goin' on today, Daniel. Everybody at their best, so wear your new suit," he called over his shoulder as he left the room.

Daniel frowned. Fatigues were usually the order of the day, and the memo hadn't specified dress clothing. The fact that Jack was in his dress blues and had suggested Daniel dress up, too, let him know that this inspection was different from most of the others he'd been through over the years. Which meant he'd need to go by and clean up his office ASAP.

After putting on his suit, he let his fingers drift over the beautiful material and smiled slightly. To be valued by people as fine as Janet, Jack, Sam and Teal'c was a wonderful thing. He was proud to be in their company, touched to have earned their love and respect, and this gift was perfect evidence of how they saw him.

His smile faded and tears blurred his vision. He lifted his head and wiped them away, starting out of the locker room and toward the elevator. If his teammates only knew the truth, they might not be so proud of hanging with someone who might fast be becoming unbalanced.

If he could just get through this damned inspection without seeing things or hearing voices, he'd check himself into the infirmary and let somebody else figure out what the hell was wrong with him, hoping there was a cure.

~~**~~

"Doctor Jackson."

Daniel's head came up off his desk instantly, a sheet of paper from the report he'd been reading stuck to his cheek. "Here!" he blurted before he recognized the voice that had addressed him. He looked up to see Jack, Sam and Teal'c standing on the far side of his desk. Nervously peeling the paper from his face, which was flaming with embarrassment, he glanced up to see Sam smiling wistfully at him, looking sharp and bright-eyed in her dress blues. Teal'c seemed inordinately proud, dressed in his charcoal grey Chulakian robes. Jack was every bit the cool colonel, not a flicker of emotion in his expression, save for the glint of concern in his eyes.

"Will you please come with us?"

"Oh, God, did a tour come through while I was asleep? Jack, I'm sorry— "

"You're not in trouble, Daniel. Just wake up, put on your best face and come with us." Jack's voice was unusually gentle and warm.

Daniel stood up, straightened his tie, smoothed down his jacket and ran his fingers nervously through his hair, leaving some of it standing on end. He reached up to his face to check for glasses, found them there, and glanced down to check that his zipper was up and his shoes were on his feet. He stepped around his desk, and Sam separated herself from the others, catching him as he started to go by her. She combed his hair back down with her fingers.

"There. That's better." Her smile faded a little, concern blossoming in her eyes. "Are you okay?"

"I'm f—"

Jack's eyebrows scrunched downward, cutting off the rest of his reflex response.

"Um, I'll be okay, Sam. Just a headache. A little tired, but that's all." He smiled at her, and she took his arm at the elbow, escorting him with the others down the corridor to the elevator. Jack punched the button for the 28th floor, and Daniel wondered why they were going down there.

"Is the inspection over already?" He glanced at his watch and saw that it was approaching 2:00 PM, right when the VIPs were supposed to be doing all the handshaking before they left.

"Oh, no, the fun is just starting, Daniel," Jack said softly.

Daniel glanced at the man beside him and saw a little smile toying at the corners of his mouth. 

Jack had a secret. The rest of them looked pretty damn smug, too. "Okay, what's up?"

"Nothing's up," Jack assured him.

Daniel noticed he didn't drop the `g,' so the older man was in full colonel mode.

The doors parted, and the team exited together, traveling a short distance toward the embarkation room. A small group of ranking officers, the C.O.s of every active team on the roster, General Hammond and two very special guests stood waiting for them in the hallway just outside the gate room. The audience stood in neat rows in the corridor, no place to sit, and Jack led the team to a spot already cleared for them on the front row, right beside the guests of honor. A small semicircle of space remained open before the big metal door and the straight wall on which it was hung.

Daniel smiled, recognizing Catherine Langford and Ernest Littlefield, looking dapper in a dark suit, standing at the front beside General Hammond, and they smiled back. On some hidden signal that Daniel didn't catch, all attention turned to the commander of the SGC. Catherine proudly glanced up at the wall beside the `gate room door.

Daniel's gaze followed, and he saw rows of team photographs on the wall beside it, including one taken of SG-1 the previous day. Above those was a row of headshots of the first Abydos team, starting with Jack and ending with one of himself, in the order in which they had passed through the event horizon. Above that were two large portraits of Doctor Littlefield, one from Catherine's collection from 1945, and one made recently. Beside those portraits was a brass plaque.

General Hammond stood directly in front of the embarkation room door in his dress blues. "Ladies and gentlemen, members of the SGC, honored guests," he began. "In 1945, an artifact carefully kept out of public record was examined by a team of scientists working for the government in an attempt to discover weaponry useful in the military theater active in Europe and the Pacific during World War II. The first activation of the device we now call the stargate occurred in January of 1945. At that time, no MALPs were available to determine conditions or location on the other side of the event horizon. Our scientists weren't even sure what it was, or where it went." He smiled fondly. "One brave man volunteered to see what was on the other side, knowing it might cost him his life."

Ernest swallowed hard and covered Catherine's hand with both of his, tears filling his eyes. The haunted look returned. She leaned over and kissed his cheek, squeezing his fingers comfortingly. "I'm right here," she whispered to him. "This is real, and we're together."

He nodded.

The general watched the elderly couple supporting each other. "For fifty years Doctor Ernest Littlefield lived on an unknown, isolated world with only his memories for company, studying the profoundly important clearinghouse of knowledge where he found himself. By sheer accident, we discovered records of that mission a few years back and undertook to send a rescue party in the hopes that Doctor Littlefield might still be alive." Hammond beamed. "SG-1 brought him home, alive and well, from P3X-972, now reclassified under a new designation."

Cheers and whistles went up, along with a storm of applause, quite loud in the narrow space in which they were gathered.

Ernest clutched tighter to Catherine's hand, and Daniel patted the old man's shoulder, offering what support he could. The elder scientist was weeping now, moved by the remembrance of his salvation. Daniel reached into his breast pocket and gave the man his handkerchief.

Sam eased in front of Daniel, hooking her arm in the old man's. She led Ernest a few steps away to the front to stand by the general, Catherine on Ernest's other side, still firmly holding his hand. He struggled to compose himself and lift his head but tears still sparkled in his eyes. He looked thoughtful and a little overwhelmed by emotion, staring at the floor.

"It is in his honor," Hammond continued when the noise began to die down, "that we dedicate this space to the intrepid men and women who regularly journey to unknown worlds, ready and willing to sacrifice their lives for the sake of knowledge and the future safety of the human race. I present to you the Doctor Ernest Littlefield Wall of Honor, where the roster of all active teams at Stargate Command will be displayed. The plaque on the wall between Doctor Littlefield's portraits reads, _This man was first through the stargate, before an official Stargate Command was launched. In honor of his courage, we dedicate every discovery made as we travel to other worlds to the spirit of Dr. Littlefield_."

Ernest straightened up as he listened, and gradually a tiny smile quavered on his lips.

Catherine whispered to her husband, telling him that she loved him, that she was proud of him. Ernest's chin lifted, and that trembling smile firmed up. He looked at his wife, and his eyes began to blaze.

"In the same way that Columbus, Magellan and Lewis and Clark opened up our world as they explored it in their day," added the general, "so have the teams of Stargate Command explored and opened up the mysteries and marvels of the worlds in the stargate system." He looked beside him at the elderly couple and smiled warmly. "They are the first vanguard of friendship and knowledge of the human race. They are ambassadors of Planet Earth, the best of the best. We can never repay them for their courage, but we can honor them in this small way, and tell them that we are fortunate to have such scholars and warriors leading the way into the galaxy."

He turned to offer Ernest his hand. "Congratulations, Doctor Littlefield. Well done."

Ernest shook his hand and turned to look up at the photos. "It's a good thing SG-1 didn't take any pictures right when they found me," he said slowly. "We couldn't have put that one up there."

Catherine and the team all laughed, but nobody else got the joke.

"I was alone on that planet for fifty years, you know," Ernest explained to the rest of them. "I knew that, if I kept wearing the diving suit in which I left Earth, the only clothing I had with me, that it would eventually wear away to nothing, so… I took it off." He grinned a little. "There wasn't anyone around to see anyway. When SG- 1 found me, I had completely forgotten about the convention of clothing. Wasn't sure those people were really there for a few minutes." He chuckled a little, and everyone joined him. "Once I realized they weren't hallucinations, I got dressed. I was going home."

He blinked back tears. "I came to realize early on that those who were in on the first stargate experiment thought I was dead. I knew there would be no rescue mission and contented myself with researching the wealth of knowledge with which I found myself surrounded." He shook his head, smiling. "A single human lifetime wasn't long enough to understand all I found there. I wish we could go back." 

He looked at Catherine and smiled broadly. "Ever the scientist, I know, my dear." He turned back to his audience. "But what we are learning through this technological marvel called the stargate will hopefully make us better people, more cognizant of the greater scope of life. I am honored that you have all lauded me for my foolhardiness, but sometimes that's what it takes to blaze trails where angels fear to tread. Thank you, General Hammond, ladies and gentlemen of Stargate Command… and thank you, my beloved wife, Catherine, for being there in my heart across a galaxy, during most of a lifetime spent apart."

Hammond shook his hand and smiled politely. After a few minutes of congratulations and admiration of the wall, he called everyone to attention. "We also have another dedication to observe, so if you'll all join me upstairs…" He gestured toward the elevator and everyone began to file away but Daniel remained where he was, close to the guests of honor.

"Catherine, Ernest! Nobody told me you were coming," he told them apologetically. "I'd have met you upstairs if I'd known."

"Yes, you would have, but they went to a lot of trouble to make this a surprise," Catherine informed him after kissing his cheek.

"It's good to see you again, Daniel," said Ernest. He caught Catherine's hand as soon as Daniel released her and brought it to his lips, lacing their fingers together as he lowered their hands. The old man's eyes were sparkling with joy, the haunted look that had once filled them now completely gone.

"It's good to see you again, too. You two look great," Daniel breathed, glancing at the others all heading down the corridor toward the elevators. "Shouldn't we be going with everybody else?" He started to move away.

Jack snagged his sleeve and held him back. "Let's talk to Ernest for a minute. Let him bask a little."

"He might need a chair pretty soon, Jack," Daniel suggested. "I think reminiscing about that particular adventure pretty much wore him out."

"Yeah. Catherine knows what to do," he assured his friend.

"So, what's going on upstairs? And why didn't I hear about all this?" He gestured toward the wall. "I could've helped."

Jack just gave him a mysterious little smile. "We know," he said quietly and ushered Daniel through the dissipating crowd to the wall. "You were needed elsewhere, Daniel. We wanted this to be a surprise."

"Well, it was. It's wonderful, you guys." He still felt a little cheated. "I just wish I could've been in on it."

"Don't worry, Daniel. In a very big way, you were," Sam assured him with a secretive smile.

The team chatted with Ernest and Catherine until the hallway cleared. Finally Ernest was ready to go and started toward the elevator.

Daniel started to go with them, but Teal'c stepped in his way and shook his head. "Not yet, DanielJackson," he rumbled pleasantly. "You will need to wait a moment and let us accompany you."

Suspicion exploded in Daniel's mind. "Okay, what did you guys do? You're all being awfully mysterious."

"Someone wishes to meet you, DanielJackson," said Teal'c.

"One of the brass," added Sam. They headed for the elevator, and she punched the call button, then stepped back to wait for the car to return after dropping off Ernest and Catherine upstairs.

"Oh, well, okay, but I need to get back to work as soon as I'm done glad-handing. I have no idea how long I was asleep, but it was too long and I've got tons of work to finish." Daniel was embarrassed to have fallen asleep at his desk on that day in particular, especially during the middle of the day. He'd slept through lunch, too, and his stomach was reminding him of that fact.

Jack looked down at his noisy belly without comment, then back up into his eyes. 

"Sorry," Daniel mumbled. "I'll try to keep it quiet." They boarded the elevator, and Daniel saw Teal'c press the button for the 11th floor. "Are we leaving the base?"

"Wait and see," said Jack enigmatically.

The elevator doors parted, and for a moment, Daniel couldn't move. The 11th floor had been transformed. The corridor was no longer closed off by the partitions, and the area between the two elevators now encompassed a huge, formal semicircular room that took his breath away. 

Rich paneling covered the walls. Beautiful carpeting lay underfoot on the floors. The wall in the back was almost covered in photographs, including a big one of him at the focal point, flanked by the American and SGC flags. 

The Air Force seal dominated the center of the floor, emblazoned on the carpet and declaring this area a bastion of the United States Air Force. Toward the back of the room stood an imposing gray marble desk. Two Marine and one Air Force security officer in dress uniforms stood at attention behind the desk.

Jack, Sam and Teal'c began to file out of the elevator, hands pressed against Daniel's elbows and shoulders to guide him out with them. Dazedly he stepped out, his gaze dropping from the photographs to the sea of people, most of them in Class A's, everyone else in suits, standing in neat rows on either side of the room. A wide path had been left down the center of the room, showing off the colorful Air Force seal at room center.

Daniel scanned the faces of those he passed as his team ushered him up the center aisle. Jacob Carter/Selmak, Master Brata'c and Jonas Quinn smiled at him from the group on his right. Every department head and ranking officer of the SGC was present with them. On the left were familiar faces Daniel had seen at the SGC including the Secretary of Defense, the Air Force and Marine Joint Chiefs, the Senate Chairman of Appropriations, and last but not least, President Charles Kearney, Commander in Chief of the United States of America.

Daniel's mouth went dry. His brain fogged over. His eyes went so wide he couldn't even blink.

"Just keep walking," Jack murmured in his ear.

They guided him to stand at the front, to the right of the big gray marble desk. General Hammond stood directly in front of it, eyeing the flagship team of the SGC with pride. Daniel straightened his posture and lifted his chin, proud to be in their company among these auspicious guests.

He stood with his hands at his sides and waited, stealing a glance at that big portrait of himself on the back wall. After seeing the Littlefield presentation, it wasn't hard to figure out who the guest of honor was for this dedication. Someone had gone to an awful lot of trouble to get this done. Maybe a lot of someones. Warmth filled him up and overflowed. He started choking up, his throat closing up with emotion.

Hammond took a step forward, commanding the attention of everyone in the room. He turned to his left, addressing the visiting dignitaries first. "Mr. President, Mr. Secretary, Senators, Generals, members of the SGC, honored guests." He turned back to face the entire assembly. "Welcome to Stargate Command."

He paused just the right length of time for dramatic effect, his steely eyes sweeping the faces before him.

"Eight years ago, we were fortunate enough to have a young man come through our doors without a clue of what to expect, other than a job doing translations for the US government," he intoned, his eyes shifting to meet Daniel's before moving back to the assembly. "Doctor Daniel Jackson did what no one before him had been able to do – solve the mystery of the Giza cover stones. His discovery gave us the key to what the stargate is, as well as the most basic information on how it worked, and all without even knowing such a device existed. After that staggering accomplishment, he volunteered to be among what we believed at the time to be the first exploratory mission through the stargate. He was the only person capable of finding and deciphering the information needed for the return trip. He sent our boys home after helping to neutralize an alien threat terrorizing hundreds of worlds in our galaxy. We thought, when that first mission was over, that it was over. As we know now, we couldn't have been more wrong."

He bowed his head for a moment, and then straightened slightly. "Since that time, we have had cause to travel to hundreds of worlds, make scores of new friends on planets far flung from our own. We have also fought against the threat of aliens who have attacked us on many fronts, winning battles here, losing others there. 

"We are here today to acknowledge, in our own way, the sacrifices made by the men and women of Stargate Command on behalf of the entire human race, and in the interests of our alien allies. Ladies and gentlemen, at this time I'd like to present the officer responsible for this memorial to the fallen of the SGC, Major Samantha Carter."

He turned to his right, made eye contact with Sam, and stepped back to allow her space to come forward.

Daniel stood there, staring at the floor and blushing to his hairline. He had never expected this, wasn't prepared for it. He had to admit to himself that this felt wonderful, like he actually mattered, and that he was being appreciated for once. He lifted his head to look at her as Sam took the floor, standing straight and tall as she surveyed the small crowd who had come to this dedication.

"I worked on the stargate long before Doctor Catherine Langford went to seek out Doctor Daniel Jackson," she began. "Some of the best minds in astrophysics, engineering, computer science and several other branches of intelligencia slaved over that enigmatic device downstairs, making a little progress here, a little progress there. What we couldn't do, however, was figure out exactly what it was, what it did or how to make it work." She looked fondly at the man a few steps to her right. "Daniel did in two weeks what our think tank couldn't manage in two years, without ever having laid eyes on the device itself. In fact, without even knowing it existed."

A murmur of approval went through the crowd, and Sam paused for it to wane.

"Daniel excels at thinking outside the box. He was literally light years ahead of everyone else in the archaeological community, and they shot his theories down and turned their backs on him. That was when he came to us and opened up the entire galaxy to humanity. Doctor Langford saw something in his work that every one of his peers missed. She believed in him when no one else did, and hoped he might be able to help us with this puzzle." 

She glanced sadly at the floor for a moment. "Little did any of us know at that time just how significant a contribution Daniel would make to human knowledge over the next eight years. Those of us who are close to him wish we could go out and tell his peers what a genius he is and help him earn his rightful place that he so richly deserves, but we can't. Daniel accepts the fact that he is dismissed in that circle of academicians and concentrates on what matters, on the work we do here. 

"He has gone for eight years without any kind of recognition for his contributions, while those around him receive promotions, commendations and medals for their service in what Daniel has called, `the greatest endeavor of humanity'." She hesitated and dropped her head, obviously struggling with her emotions. When she spoke again her voice was huskier with remembered grief. "And then last year, we lost Daniel for what we believed was the last time. He acted, as he always does, with no regard for himself and saved millions of people on another world by his quick thinking and courage. Then he came home to die."

Her chin tipped up proudly. "We said goodbye to him and let him go." She paused, swallowing hard. Taking a deep breath, she went on, her voice growing increasingly stronger. "There was no memorial service, no period of mourning. He was simply gone, and we believed then that he would never be back. We went through his things, kept some as mementos, and gave the rest away. Only I couldn't let go. Losing Daniel that last time drove home to me the loss of so many who have fallen under the banner of the SGC." 

She turned and looked behind her, eyes sweeping the many photographs on the wall, before turning back to the crowd. "And we will lose many more before we find the answer to the conflict with the aliens who still threaten us. Some of these men and women I never knew but in putting this memorial together, I have learned a great deal about them. We should all know their names and remember where and how they died, because they gave their lives for _us_."

With a gentle smile, Sam looked at Daniel and made eye contact. "Some of them, more than once."

He saw the affection and admiration gleaming in her eyes and smiled back, his forehead crinkling up with emotion.

"What we deal with here at the SGC are extraordinary circumstances," she explained. "What we once believed impossible occurs often enough for some of us to shrug it off without a second thought, like resurrection from the dead and ascension to higher planes." She smiled again, then grew somber. "But no one on a team can ever count on coming back, once we step through that `gate. We can't count on having the luxury of tomorrow. Each of us keeps our personal affairs in order and commits ourselves to this cause with everything that we are. Then, if we are called upon to make the ultimate sacrifice, all we can ask is that we not be forgotten."

She glanced down at a sheet of paper in her hands. "When Daniel died for the sixth time..."

A murmur of startled surprise rippled through the audience.

Daniel glanced up at the wall. Aside from the big picture of him at center, he counted six smaller ones, all different poses, including the one of him on the camel in Egypt. He couldn't read the plaque beneath it because it was too far away, but intended to check it out a little closer when this ceremony was over.

"...an idea came to mind for a way in which we could acknowledge the fallen that would keep their memory alive within these walls, until such time as their sacrifices can be made public. From today onward, any visitor having the clearance to arrive on the 11th floor of this installation will be greeted by these images of those we have lost, to whom we owe so much. Any who see these photographs will be reminded of the fact that these were real people, people of integrity and strength, who paid the ultimate price so that we might enjoy our freedom a little longer.

"This memorial didn't happen overnight," she added with a weary smile. "The concept was supported by our people from here all the way to Washington. It took a lot of man hours to design and complete, requiring nearly ten months to garner necessary support, acquire funding and then actually put it all together. Now, instead of a nondescript corridor joining two elevator shafts, separated by an airman at a tiny desk, we have this elegant new entry station that reflects a measure of the importance of Stargate Command."

Applause went up all around them. Several people toward the back cheered. Daniel felt his face heat up and looked down again.

When the noise subsided, Sam beamed. "Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you the Doctor Daniel Jackson Memorial. I'd like to read to you what the parchment beside his portrait, behind me, says." She cleared her throat and her voice inched up in volume as she began. 

_"Daniel Alexander Melburn Nicholas Jackson, Ph.D_

"He gave us the final key to the stargate, and through his efforts, contributed to the enrichment and continued success of Stargate Command. He acted as translator, cultural specialist, historian and diplomat on the flagship first contact team, SG-1, as we of the SGC explored the stars. But more than that, he was our friend, a constant source of inspiration, dedication, and support to all who entered this facility. His tenacity was unequalled in our ranks, never giving up when those around him had already done so. He willingly relinquished his life on numerous occasions, choosing to be the one making the ultimate sacrifice for the many, and it is in his honor that this memorial to the fallen of the SGC is dedicated.

"Wherever you are, Daniel, our hearts go with you."

A sprinkling of applause sounded again.

Sam straightened up taller and grinned, eyeing familiar faces in the crowd. "When the idea for this wall was first conceived ten months ago, Daniel was no longer with us. We have the very great honor of having him back with us now. We have undoubtedly embarrassed him with this memorial today. He isn't a man who dreams of glory, and I'm sure he doesn't believe he deserves any of this." 

She gazed at him for a moment, then turned back to make eye contact with Senator Kinsey, standing to one side near the President. "Simply by counting the number of photos of Daniel on that wall, not including the honorary portrait between the flags, I believe you'll agree he's quite deserving of an honor such as this."

Sam held out a hand toward Daniel, and he went forward to take it. She pulled him into a hug instead. "Welcome home, Daniel," she said in his ear. He could hardly hear her for the applause.

He just held her for a moment, touched and mortified all at the same time. He wasn't sure what he was supposed to do and just stood there when she let him go. She stepped aside and drew him with her, back near the desk between herself and the general, holding his hand a moment longer to indicate he should stay there.

General Hammond glanced to the side and gave a quick nod, then stepped forward. "Ladies and gentlemen, at this time, it is my very great honor to present to you the President of the United States, Mr. Charles Kearney." 

He stepped back, and a tall, gray haired man from the small group on the right came forward. He was broad shouldered and fit, with an air of elegance and self assurance, his face lined with care but still ruggedly handsome. He had the bearing of someone who had once been in the military and the clear-eyed expression of an intelligent man used to giving orders. The President smiled broadly at Daniel as he came forward to address the crowd.

Two men in black suits were posted beside the elevators that were the only entrances to the room. Two others stood a little behind the President and to the side, never looking directly at the man, his ever-present Secret Service bodyguard on their toes, scanning the crowd for any sign of threat. Every other military officer in the room stood equally vigilant in the presence of this man.

"Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for inviting me here today," he began, his Minnesota accent unmistakable. His brown eyes were somber but warm. "It is my privilege to offer the thanks of a grateful world to some of the heroes who daily grace your halls. Hidden away beneath this mountain, you guard a secret that the rest of the world is not yet ready to know, offering up your very lives in silence to protect our freedom. There is no word of thanks, no symbol of honor great enough to convey our gratitude for that."

He looked down at a small teak box in his hand, then glanced to one side to meet Jack O'Neill's eyes before looking back at his audience. "The men and women in our military go into the service of this country fully aware that they may be called into battle, to lay their lives on the line for others." Kearney made eye contact with Daniel. "Everyday citizens live their lives performing their jobs, most of whom, aside from our police and firefighters, never think their work might keep them from coming home again. We are proud of the handful of scholars and civilian experts who aid our military in this incredible undertaking; who, without thought of reward or glory, perpetually covered in a shroud of secrecy, willingly stand beside our soldiers and offer their lives as well."

Again, Daniel felt a lump rise in his throat. He glanced at the wall, at Robert Rothman's picture. Grief rose and was quietly tucked away.

President Kearney paused until Daniel looked back at him. "Most academicians never dream that there will ever come a day when they'll be standing in the middle of a battleground, taking fire from enemy soldiers. But those here at the SGC do it often, and it is time we said `thank you' for their willingness to put their expertise, their knowledge, their very lives, where they are so desperately needed." He turned back to the crowd and held up the little box for everyone to see.

Daniel studied the medal in Kearney's hand. Thirteen tiny gold stars lay on a blue field inside a circle at the heart of a white star. Behind that was a red pentagon, spanning between the arms of the five- pointed star. At the tips of those arms, gold eagles with spread wings joined those five points, their feet firmly planted on the straight sides of the red pentagon. Another more ornate gold eagle was pinned onto the short blue ribbon on which the medallion hung.

"This is the Medal of Freedom," Kearney explained. "It is the highest civilian honor that our country can offer, established in 1945 by President Truman to recognize notable service during World War II. President Kennedy revived the medal in 1963 for distinguished civilian service during peacetime. Each year, a panel chooses recipients of this award, but they are a distinguished few; educators and authors, diplomats and scientists, who work diligently toward making our world a better place for everyone."

He looked down at the teak box in his hand, then over his shoulder at the biggest of the framed pictures. "If you'll notice, ladies and gentlemen, the commemorative portrait of Doctor Jackson is in a shadow-box. Between the photograph and the parchment there is a medal hung over the matting between them." He turned back to the crowd. "That is also a Medal of Freedom, awarded to Doctor Jackson posthumously about six months ago, for his part in the very first stargate mission." He turned to face Daniel. "Doctor Jackson, if you please." He held out one hand in invitation.

Daniel walked stiffly forward, stopping when he was a few feet away from the President. He watched the man slide open the glass cover on the teak presentation box and lift the medal out. Kearney handed the box to General Hammond, who replaced it on the desk just behind him, and President Kearney unfastened the clip at the back of the blue ribbon.

"Doctor Jackson, it is my great _personal_ honor to award you this second Medal of Freedom, for your many acts of heroism, not the least of which was your courageous effort to prevent a catastrophic event in the country of Kelowna on P2S..." He frowned and glanced at Jack.

"...4C3," Daniel murmured, leaning slightly closer. He glanced over his shoulder at Jonas Quinn, who grinned and gave him a thumbs-up.

Kearney smiled and nodded. "P2S-4C3. While I don't pretend to understand exactly what happened to you, Daniel, I do know it was extraordinary and unprecedented and that a great many people owe you their lives." He fastened the medal over Daniel's tie, securing it at the nape of his neck, then extended his right hand in congratulations. "Doctor Jackson, to my knowledge, you are the only person in the history of this country to have ever received _two_ of these awards. Congratulations."

"Thank you, sir," Daniel said with a smile, firmly shaking his President's hand. He was embarrassed, elated and shamed all at once. He knew SG-1 had accomplished a great deal in the conflict against the System Lords, and he was proud of that achievement, but shadowing that was that undercurrent of failure that still ate at him during moments of introspection.

Recognition such as this was something he had always dreamed of achieving, but he had given that up when the academic world turned its back on him. Now, being lauded in front of these people was almost more than he could bear. The rest of the world be damned. The only people whose opinions mattered to Daniel Jackson were in that room, and they were telling him how proud they were of him.

Sam was responsible for the memorial; that was easy enough to guess. One look at Jack's face told him who had found a way for him to earn the medals. Jack was proud of him. So were Sam, Teal'c, Hammond, Janet Fraiser; everyone he most respected was looking back at him with honor in their eyes.

That was priceless, and Daniel felt a profound sense of joy filling him.

Daniel couldn't think of anything to say, so he accepted the Medal of Freedom, posed for pictures with President Kearney and then stepped back beside Sam. 

"As we have made our uncertain way across the galaxy, we have made both friends and foes," Kearney continued. "It is the greatest triumph of all to make a friend of one who was once an enemy, to have one who once fought against us choose to stand and fight at our side." He turned to his right. "Teal'c of Chulak, it is with the greatest respect that I ask you to come forward."

Daniel smiled, not surprised to feel his throat close completely, clogged with emotion as his friend went forward to stand beside the President of his country.

"The United States of America is honored to have you as an ally, Teal'c, and for your unselfish service and your many acts of heroism, we present to you this Medal of Freedom in gratitude for your loyalty and bravery. My wish for you is that one day, you will see your people become free from tyranny. Congratulations."

He shook Teal'c's hand and reached way up to place the ribbon around the Jaffa's neck, settling it in place and lifting the medal out over the cowl on Teal'c's robe.

"Thank you, PresidentKearney. It has been my great honor to aid in the cause of the Tau'ri," he intoned, nodding graciously. He retreated back to his spot after the handshake and photographs were taken.

"Major Samantha Carter," Kearney called.

Daniel could see the medal in his hand, suspended from a short blue ribbon. Beneath a blue field bearing thirteen stars hung a small brass bar with the word `VALOR' embossed on it. Below that was the winged double-headed trident backed by lightning bolts that was the same as the charge on the Air Force shield. Attached beneath that was an upside-down five-pointed star bearing the head of the Statue of Liberty. The star's five points were laced with laurel leaves, a symbol of honor since the days of the Roman Empire.

Sam came forward, beaming.

"This is late in coming but well deserved," said the President with a smile. "I present to you the Medal of Honor, awarded to you this day for helping to save this world from certain annihilation. Your quick thinking under tremendous pressure prevented the impact of a meteor set by our enemies on a collision course for our planet. Your many heroic actions as a member of SG-1 are a debt that your country – that your world – can never repay. It is with a profound sense of gratitude that we award you the Medal of Honor. Well done, major."

He placed the medal around her neck, settling it just beneath her collar, and she stepped back to salute him. He returned the gesture with a smile.

"Thank you, Mr. President. It has been my privilege to serve, sir," she said quietly as she shook his hand, then stepped back into place beside Daniel.

He took her hand and held onto it, almost overcome with pride, but not wanting to interrupt the festivities. There would be time for hugs and congratulations later. He couldn't say anything at the moment, anyway, and turned back to watch the presentation of the next award.

General Hammond handed Kearney the next medal. "Colonel O'Neill," the President called formally. Then he chuckled as the officer named stepped forward. "Jack."

The colonel's face was a mask of discipline. Class A's without a wrinkle, back ramrod straight, he stood at attention, eyeing the Commander in Chief without a flicker of expression.

"Ladies and gentlemen, Colonel O'Neill and I go way back," Kearney said quietly, a slow smile spreading across his face. "We served together on an Air Force Special Ops team and knew each other long before that as boys in Minnesota. A man couldn't ask for a better friend. A country couldn't ask for a better soldier. Jack may not always follow the rules, but he gets the job done in his own inimitable way – and God help anybody who threatens his family, his friends or his country." 

Kearney shook his head, glancing down at the medal in his hand. "This should have been awarded to you eight years ago, after the first Abydos mission, but the Medal of Honor is a public award. It has only been through the advent of keeping a second classified set of books for this program that we can make this presentation to you, Jack, but I can't think of anyone who deserves it more."

He reached up and clasped the ribbon around Jack's neck, settling the medallion on its short ribbon in place over the knot on Jack's tie and patting him fondly on the shoulder. "Congratulations, Colonel O'Neill, from a grateful nation. From a grateful world."

They saluted each other, Jack's hand snapping up with military precision, Kearney's gesture equally crisp.

"Thank you, Mr. President," Jack said as he shook his hand, then hugged him, breaking into a broad grin. "Charlie, you're such a sap," he murmured into the other man's ear as he pulled away.

Daniel watched in awe, fighting back tears. He knew how important that particular medal was to Jack. It was the Big Cheese, the Brass Ring that every soldier dreams of earning and few ever did. "All right, _Jack_ ," he breathed. He felt Sam's arm go around his shoulders in a hug, and he squeezed her back.

Jack's face composed once again. The President smiled fondly and the colonel stepped back into his group as the next medals were announced.

"These next ladies and gentlemen cannot accept their awards because they are no longer with us," the President intoned, "nor can their families accept for them, since the awards are still classified, so we ask that Doctor Jackson accept them on their behalf. Those in the military who are receiving Purple Hearts and other awards that need not remain under classified status will have these commendations presented to their families at a later date." He gestured to the wall behind him. "Classified medals will be hung beside the portraits of the valiant soldiers and civilians who earned them, until such time as they can be publicly awarded to their next of kin."

Daniel stepped forward again. 

"Doctor Robert Rothman, the Medal of Freedom…" Kearney began, enumerating the scientist's worthwhile deeds while assigned to other teams. 

Daniel's heart was heavy as the names were called for some of the others being recognized, whose medals would be hung up on the wall after the ceremony. He carefully handed them to Sam, who took them to a small table at the back wall. He was proud to be enumerated among the honored in this group. 

_This endeavor_ , he reminded himself, _is the accomplishment of my lifetime, my greatest contribution to humanity. If I do nothing else, my participation here has earned me a place in history_.

There was something incredibly satisfying about that.

He concentrated on the list of names being read, reminding himself of their faces, remembering moments with them while they were alive, and also having to watch some of them die.

After the last medal was awarded, President Kearney gave way to General Hammond as the final speaker. "Ladies and gentlemen, honored guests, we are thankful that you could all join us here today for this auspicious occasion. We invite you to take one final look at this memorial and contemplate its meaning for a moment. Afterward, we hope you'll stay and congratulate the honorees. Our staff will be available to answer any questions you may have. Please join us afterward in the briefing room on the 27th floor for coffee and refreshments."

A feeling of satisfaction filled Daniel. He turned with everyone else to view the memorial wall in silence, scanning every face and committing each one to memory. This was a good thing, a statement to any who saw it that this was a costly endeavor; that those who walked these halls were people who could be trusted at your back.

Beside him, a lone voice rose in song. Daniel turned to look up at Teal'c, who stood with hands clasped against his robes, eyes closed. This was the traditional acknowledgement of a fallen warrior among the Jaffa of Chulak, sung in their language, and as Daniel listened, he realized Teal'c was pausing between the lines, leaving time for Daniel to translate for the rest of the audience.

Daniel fell into the rhythm immediately, echoing the haunting tune with English phrases so those around them could appreciate the sentiment as well.

_  
_

"In the silence, hear the sound   
Of this great warrior falling down.   
In the darkness, see the light   
Of his spirit, burning bright.   
He will lead us, with our souls,   
To victory, our shining goal.   
He is gone, but he will be   
Forever in our memory.   
In the silence, hear the sound   
Of one brave warrior falling down."

Teal'c's deep voice took on a surprising softness as he sang. When he finished he opened his eyes and stared at the wall for a moment, his grief for the lost evident in his expression, one muscle twitching in his jaw.

"Thank you, Teal'c," whispered Daniel, touching his friend's sleeve.

The big guy turned slightly toward him and offered a regal bow. "Now you know this song, DanielJackson," he said huskily. "Perhaps you will sing it for me when it is my time."

Daniel swallowed hard. "If I'm still around, yeah." He smiled. Teal'c asked for so little and gave so much. "Jaffa live longer than humans, you know."

"But we are at war. There are no guarantees of tomorrow, as MajorCarter said."

"So we celebrate today." He shook Teal'c's hand, then turned to smile at Sam.

Daniel moved around the room shaking hands with those who had come to see him on that special day. He took the time to let them all know how much they meant to him. He hugged Catherine and Ernest and eventually made his way back to his team at the front, now milling around with everyone else. Jack shook his hand, then pulled him into a back-slapping hug.

"Way to go, Danny," his friend whispered in his ear. "Congratulations."

Daniel couldn't seem to speak. He just smiled and nodded back at the man.

People broke into small groups for conversation, many of them moving toward the wall to look at the pictures and discuss the lost ones. It seemed everyone wanted to talk to Daniel, to ask him questions, look at his medal, have photos taken with him and shake his hand. Embarrassment soon faded into enthusiasm and finally weariness. He watched as Sam posted herself beside the table where the medals had been laid for the fallen, answering questions and recounting in detail how every person featured in one of the pictures had lived and died.

Daniel listened as she talked about each of them, recounting endearing or quirky things about their personalities, bringing them to life for those asking about them. That warmed Daniel deeply, especially when she spoke about those on the first team, people whom she had never met. It seemed as if she knew them all, as if they had been close friends. Daniel supposed, after all the research she had done on them, that perhaps they had been, after a fashion. He admired that about her, that she cared so much.

Looking up at his own pictures on that wall, however, his smile faded and he found himself angling toward the elevator, seeking escape.

Jack appeared at his elbow just as he pressed the call button. "Ready to go?" he asked quietly.

Daniel didn't make eye contact, just stood facing the elevator doors. "Yeah. I'm tired. Feels like I can't get enough sleep lately."

They stepped into the car together and Jack pushed the button for the 18th floor, where Daniel's office was located.

"I was hoping to go back to my room," Daniel murmured. "I just wanna go to bed."

"You sure you don't wanna go to the infirmary? You look pretty beat."

Nodding, Daniel closed his aching eyes, gritty from fatigue and lack of sleep. He felt sapped, utterly exhausted. "Yeah. Just some rest. That's all I need."

"I'll come by and check on you later." Jack pushed the button for the 25th floor and turned to study his younger teammate. Jack continued to stare at him, his brows pinched in a quizzical expression.

"What?" asked Daniel.

"I was just wonderin'. Did your parents do that to you on purpose?"

Daniel frowned, not getting the question. "Do what?"

"Your name."

"I was named for my grandfathers, Alexander and Nicholas, and for my dad, Melburn. Daniel is the name they chose for me. History was big in my family, in case you hadn't noticed. Everything had meaning."

"No, I meant the initials. Do you think they realized what they spelled?"

Daniel snorted softly. "They probably never even noticed. You know, ancient societies put a lot of power into our names. I wonder if my initials have the same impact."

"DAMN Jackson," Jack repeated with a slight smile. "So every time I said `dammit, Daniel'..."

"You were calling me by name, after a fashion." He grinned. "Who dug up that little nugget of Jackson trivia, by the way? I went to a lot of trouble to lose the long name."

"Our Major Carter, of course. She went through all your records with a fine-toothed comb while you were... um... dead. Probably knows everything about you by now. The woman's relentless, Daniel. She gets hold of something and never lets go." Jack smiled fondly. "Carter did good, huh?"

A wide grin swept across Daniel's face and his head bobbed up and down again. "Way more than I deserve, Jack."

"Depends on who you're askin'."

The two best friends connected for a moment, blue eyes meeting brown, asking and answering, that uncanny understanding passing between them without a word or gesture, just a simple look that no one else would have been able to translate.

_  
_

What do I deserve, Jack?

Way more than a couple medals and a memorial wall.

I have all I need, old friend.

Same here, buddy. Medals are just brass and that wall's just concrete.

Jack's fingers briefly touched the medal at his throat as he met Daniel's steady gaze. Then he straightened up, hand moving down to his side, his mouth quirking into a half-suppressed grin. His eyes twinkled in jest as he said, "They named a wall after you, but _I_ got a whole Asgard battleship!"

"Yeah, for about five minutes before they blew it up," Daniel shot back with a chuckle. "I think my wall's gonna be there for a while." The elevator deposited him on the proper floor and he strode out of the car without a backward glance, his mood lighter, and his heart comfortably full. "See you later, Jack," he called over his shoulder.

O'Neill left to return to the festivities upstairs.

Daniel went straight to his room, carefully laid the medal aside on his nightstand, then stripped down to his underwear and climbed into his bed for a nap.

~~**~~

It was evening before the last of the VIPs were gone and the base returned to normal operations. Everyone seemed to heave a collective sigh of relief, especially Jack O'Neill. The extra security measures were always tremendous stressors, and now that those were relaxed everyone could chill out a little. He changed out of the Class A's and into base fatigues for the rest of the day because he couldn't be anything but on his toes in his dress blues.

He headed down to the 25th floor, intent on checking on Daniel, but just as he entered the elevator, the claxons went off and Sergeant Davis announced an unauthorized incoming wormhole over the PA system. Punching the button for 28, Jack raced to the control room, arriving seconds before the general. He stood by, watching the screen for an IDC to appear, aware that there were several teams off-world but not expecting any of them home so soon.

As Hammond stood beside him, both of them heard the audible clang of something being destroyed against the trinium shield. Moments later, the wormhole disengaged, and the control room filled with silence. They waited, watching to see if the gate would activate again, but nothing happened.

"I want an investigative team up here ASAP," Hammond ordered Davis. "I want to know what just flattened against the iris."

"Yes, sir," Davis responded crisply, already reaching for the phone.

"Anybody we know?" asked Jack.

Hammond glanced down at the monitor on the control panel. "I sure hope not. I've got Major Carter working on a back-tracing program. Hopefully, one day soon we'll be able to determine the coordinates of the planet dialing in, but unfortunately, we aren't quite there yet. We'll need to test any trace elements left on the iris to hopefully determine what disintegrated against it, and then do our best to guess who knocked on our door."

Jack knew the drill, but those bangs and dings against the iris always heightened the tension in the control room for a while afterward. "It's a good thing that didn't happen when the President was here," Jack mused.

The general nodded. "I'll be here for another hour or two awaiting the results of the tests. I expect you were getting ready to go home yourself?"

Jack nodded, glancing at the iris. "I was gonna go check on Daniel first. He wasn't well today."

Hammond nodded, his face drawn with concern. "I noticed he's been looking tired lately. SG-1's been on stand down for two weeks. He should be well rested by now. Is he ill?"

"Had a bad migraine this morning," Jack informed him. "Really bad. Could hardly walk."

"Has he been to see Doctor Fraiser?"

"Not yet."

"See that he does. I hope he's feeling better soon." Hammond smiled a little. "We managed to surprise him after all, didn't we, colonel?"

Jack grinned broadly. He stuck his hands into his pockets and rocked back on his heels. "I think we blew him away. I don't think I've ever seen him so proud and embarrassed. He was blushing, for cryin' out loud! Practically speechless for a minute there, which is so _not_ Daniel."

Hammond chuckled. "I noticed that myself. Well, we know he deserves that honor, and so much more. I was pleased we could do that for him. Have a good evening, Jack."

"You, too, sir." Jack returned to the elevator and stepped out on the 25th floor, heading straight for Daniel's room.

He opened the door and found the younger man passed out beneath the covers, sleeping so soundly he didn't even hear the door open. Jack withdrew without waking him, choosing to let his friend have the rest he so obviously needed. If Daniel was still out of it in the morning, he'd take him to the infirmary personally.

Jack stopped by the locker room to change back into his civvies. He went to the spiffy new security desk on the 11th floor to sign out for the night, and then headed topside to go home.

~~**~~

Daniel's eyes snapped open. He glanced at the clock on the nightstand, squinting to clarify the numbers, and realized it must be almost sunset outside. For five hours he'd been dead to the world. He was still incredibly tired, but already felt much better, much less exhausted.

He was fully awake the instant he opened his eyes, and as he sat up in the bed, he could feel the familiar changes coming upon him. His heart was pounding in his chest, hands shaking, head tingling with that strange euphoria that accompanied the adrenaline surge that now always signaled sundown to him. The usual images coalesced in his mind, prompting him to get up, go out and do battle. 

His hands curled into fists, and he screwed his eyes shut, trying to blot out the sights, knowing even as he did so that they would not go away just because he willed them to. The only way to get relief was to go out and answer the call, to do as he was bidden and save the lives that hung in the balance.

His heart filled with dread and fear and something akin to a primal excitement as the surfaces in his room began to glow with an inner light. Daniel came to his feet and prowled his small room like a caged tiger. Fists clenched at his sides, head bowed in intensely focused thought, he already knew he would be out on the streets again tonight.

Never had the internal prompting been as strong as it was now, controlling him, filling him with courage, a sense of purpose and a deep belief in his abilities. Whatever he had been before he first laid eyes on the stargate, he was now a warrior in every sense of the word. Those abilities, well laced with a deeply ingrained spirit of protectiveness, filled him up and pushed him toward the door. He was powerless to resist. He didn't really want to hold himself back, because he knew what he was doing out there on the streets was important and needed. Lives depended on him, and no one could argue against that.

Part of him liked doing this. Daniel got off on the rush of one-on- one battles. He loved preventing those terrible things he had come to see in his mind. The reasoning part of his brain reminded him of the danger, not only to himself, but also to this entire endeavor hidden beneath the mountain.

"Collateral damage," he growled softly. 

He _had_ to stop doing this vigilante thing, or he was in real danger of getting himself killed. 

He also ran the risk of getting caught by the police and hauled in for questioning. His life couldn't stand the sort of scrutiny they'd be giving him, and General Hammond would have no choice but to pull him out of an interrogation for reasons of national security. Then the shit would really hit the fan when Hammond got him back to the base.

Until then, until someone got lucky and caught him, Daniel was going to go out and help people. As long as no one figured it out, as long as he wasn't killed or captured, he was free to offer his strength and skills to those who needed them. 

He lifted his chin, filled with steel and fire, and stopped pacing. His mind was made up.

Face set, he padded into his tiny bathroom and put in his rarely used disposable contact lenses, needing sharp vision without the hindrance of glasses on his face. 

Striding to his bureau, determination burning like a flame in his belly, he pulled open a drawer and tossed some clothes on the unmade bed. Dressing quickly in jeans, black T-shirt and his work boots, he threw on a jacket and headed up to the 11th floor. It startled him a little to see the new entry station, part of his mind still expecting to see the short corridor and tiny security desk.

He walked purposefully up to the marble edifice. As he looked at the guard on duty smiling at him, a halo of light emanated from the man's body. The glow was stronger than Daniel had seen the previous night, and he didn't think that was due to a change in the young soldier. The difference was in Daniel's vision, part of this strange gift that had been developing in his body over the past few weeks.

"Evening, Doctor Jackson," he called.

"Evening, Lieutenant Norris," Daniel returned. The strength in his voice surprised him a little, but his hand was shaking from the adrenaline overload as he signed out. "I won't be back until late."

The soldier gave him a sly smile, most likely thinking the archaeologist had a hot date. "Yes, sir. Have a good time."

"Right," growled Daniel. He wasn't going out to have fun. He was leaving because he had a life to save. Maybe more than one.

As soon as the elevator opened, Daniel had his cell phone to his ear, calling for a taxi. By the time he had raced to the main gate, the car was waiting for him. He waved to the guards, climbed into the car and sat in the back as the city sprang up around the street, heading north into the heart of Colorado Springs. Daniel watched the driver, seeing the halo around his body brighten as they drove until the cabbie was little more than an outline in motion, a thin containment for the radiant soul within him.

It was beautiful and Daniel smiled, enjoying the light show. Any fear he had felt earlier was now long gone.

~~**~~

Teal'c read the list of names aloud to the darkness, a small penlight shining down on the sheets of paper in his hand. He spoke in his native tongue, reciting the names of the fallen boldly and with great pride. When he finished, he read the words he had written to them, his tribute to their bravery and sacrifice.

For a moment he stood in the cool night air in silence, listening to the distant sounds of the city around him. Then he knelt down to the sheltered stone alcove where a small fire was burning and deposited both the list and the letter into the heart of the flame. He watched it catch, the fire burning suddenly brighter and hotter as it devoured the paper. Carefully tending it to prevent any sparks from floating away on the breeze, he guarded the fireplace until only ashes remained.

"It is a good day to die," he whispered proudly.

He stood and raised his face to the night sky, gazing up at the stars, arms spread, a wide smile spreading across his lips.

"Behold!" he cried to the heavens. "These mighty warriors come to battle the darkness. Let them shine like a thousand suns. We celebrate their lives among us. We take pride in their brave deaths, for they have died that others may live. Honor them! Remember them always!"

His heart was pounding in his chest, his soul filled with the glory of the lost ones. He sent that joy up to the sky with the ashes of the list of the fallen. Slowly, gently, he felt himself settle and empty, satisfied that tradition had been met and that those warriors were now at peace.

He reached back and lifted the cowl over the top of his head, framing his face in the dark gray fabric. Turning, he began to make his way down the mountain to return to his quarters. He glanced at the mouth of the tunnel and saw a lone figure leaving, recognizing the man by his gait.

DanielJackson was leaving the base. He seemed to be in a hurry, his head pushed forward as his brisk walk became an easy jog. Teal'c knew that particular stride. The scholar looked like a man on a mission, an urgent mission, and he would let nothing get in his way. When he was that intensely focused, Teal'c believed DanielJackson to be almost unstoppable.

Teal'c stopped, narrowing his eyes as he studied the rapidly retreating figure disappearing into the darkness.

Pieces fell into place. Things he hadn't considered suddenly made perfect sense. It was possible that the Jaffa was wrong. He would ask DanielJackson when he returned but until then, he would compare the log at the security desk to known dates and times to see if his theory was at least plausible.

He hurried down the mountain, both eager and alarmed about what he might discover when facts were compared to facts.

~~**~~

It was nearing nine o'clock when the cab dropped him near his destination, but Daniel was too wired to be weary. Doing this threatened everything he'd worked to help build at the SGC for the last… well, six out of eight years. Yet it was that last year he'd been ascended, when his hands – if he'd actually had any then – had been tied behind his back by Oma Desala and those damned rules. Possessing powers beyond mortal comprehension, he could have done _anything_ as an ascended being – except the one thing he most needed to do: help Jack, Teal'c and the people of Abydos. _His_ people, those who should have been under his protection. 

He was making up for that now. If this was indeed something left over from being ascended, he welcomed it. 

A shadow of a waking nightmare passed through his mind and he looked down at his trembling hands, his heart pounding so hard and fast it hurt. He was anxious to get out there, to go, to help.

The taxi had left him near a downtown hotel. From there, it was a short walk to the storage facility where he kept his things. As he walked briskly through the darkness, he became aware that tonight, the sensation that directed him through the night felt different. It was stronger now, and his vision was changing. Last night he had seen haloes around people, colorful lights that shimmered like living flames. Now the image of human shape and substance seemed transparent, each body the center of a bright conflagration that hurt his eyes. He could actually see through walls, through the metal bodies of cars, tracking the human "lights" inside them.

_X-ray vision_ , he mused as he punched in the access code at the storage facility's main gate near the street. _That's pretty cool_.

He watched as the wrought iron barrier rolled back to allow him entrance to the grounds. Into the facility he walked, past rows of neat buildings with roll-up garage doors that covered each individual space, a second smaller walk-in door just to the right. Daniel fitted his key into the padlock on the garage door, removed and pocked the padlock, then went to the smaller door and punched in the access code. He entered the large storage room he'd rented less than a month earlier. It was cool and dark in the April night. 

Flipping on the light switch, he closed the door. In the middle of the room stood a large black Ducati motorcycle. He had chosen that model because it was fast, powerful and quiet. A little black tape applied to the license plate gave it a new and incorrect number that could not be traced back to him. 

Along one wall a bedroll where he sometimes rested for a few hours afterward because his energy was always so sapped when he was finished with these personal missions. Hanging above it was the uniform and equipment he had purchased discreetly on eBay. Daniel had planned carefully once the idea took hold of his imagination and now he was reveling in being able to make a difference, to make something good and positive happen in peoples' lives. The doubts he had suffered earlier were eagerly thrust aside now. He was anxious to get started.

He took off his jeans and boots, laying them out neatly on the bedroll. He pulled on his Kevlar vest over his T-shirt, making sure it was snugly fitted to his torso. Next were the black pants, made of material that was thick like jeans but stretchy as sweatpants, designed to allow freedom of movement in covert operations. Then he put his boots on again. 

The black motorcycle jacket with the stylish polyurethane ribs down the back was last, covering up the vest. It was a popular style these days. All the bikers were wearing them and blending in was exactly what he wanted. 

Last of all, he pulled the black ninja-style mask over his head. He had bought it at a martial arts supply store in Denver, where his knowledge of Asian culture had provided him with enough material for casual conversation with the storeowner. He had made himself sound like a sensei, a master teacher of one of the Japanese disciplines so no one would think twice about why he might want the mask. Daniel had bought it to keep from being recognized since, when the hood was in place, all that showed was his eyes, the rest of his face covered with the stretchy black material. He strapped the black motorcycle helmet on top of that, raising the tinted visor so he could do a final check of the rest of his equipment. 

Standing beside the Ducati, he bent down to secure the straps on the scabbard of his Japanese samurai sword, holding it securely to the bike's frame. The _katana's_ hilt was in easy reach of his right hand. He took a moment to withdraw it, examining the blade in the dim light. It was plain, but well made and strong, its long, slender blade arching in a slight curve to an angled tip. This was the most perfect sword ever designed. The warriors who carried them, like Musashi, who had written one of the books Daniel had translated for Teal'c's birthday, were some of the most feared in the world. This _katana_ was the genuine article, purchased over the Internet to make it harder to trace to him. 

With a sigh he slipped the gleaming blade into the scabbard, fixed his knives to hip and wrist, shut off the lights and rolled up the garage door. 

Checking to see that no one was around, he pushed the Ducati outside the storage room and lowered the door. He walked the bike out into the parking lot, checking and listening to make sure no one was about. The storage unit was in the middle of the complex, with no clear view of the street so no one could see him from the more public area at the front. He lowered the garage door and locked it in case anyone else came into the complex while he was gone.

Mounting the bike, he slipped the key into the ignition and dropped the faceplate of his helmet into place. Closing his eyes, he relaxed, slipping into meditation. In the quiet night, he slowly brought his busy mind to stillness, to that place where he lost himself and the images became reality. Here he would see what was to come, and where he would need to go to prevent it from happening.

_  
_

The baby lay cooing in its father's arms as he sat on the sofa, watching television. The moment of tranquility was shattered by the sound of gunfire from outside. The man reacted, diving for cover while bullets destroyed a lamp that had been beside him and made puffs of stuffing explode out of the couch. The man looked down at the infant he had tried to shield with his body, but it was too late, too late. His wail of grief and horror filled the house, reaching out into the night in all directions.

Moments earlier now, Daniel could see the house from the outside, tiny and old, a white frame house in need of repair, set in a quiet residential neighborhood filled with similar run-down homes. Down the street he saw an old Chevrolet motoring quietly, a driver and two passengers in the car. It slowed down, and the front seat passenger looked down into his lap, checking the load and then thumbing off the safety from his pistol. The next instant, his arm lunged out the open window and he pulled the trigger until the gun was empty, deliberately shooting through the lighted windows of the house. Then the car sped away into the darkness.

Backing off further, Daniel saw the street, then the neighborhood, viewing the scene as though from the air, the pathway to his destination burned into his mind.

His heart thundered in his chest. He felt nauseous, his head pounding. "No," he panted, barely able to catch his breath. He couldn't let that baby die in such a senseless tragedy. He had to hurry if he were going to arrive in time.

Starting the ignition of the motorcycle, he headed straight to the street he'd seen in his vision, his mind focused and clear. His hands gripped the throttle, his eyes fixed on the road, weaving gracefully into the light evening traffic as if the bike were part of his body. 

He pulled into the neighborhood, glancing around at the brightly lit homes, cars parked in the street as well as in driveways. Houses crowded close to one another and yards were small. This was a poorer neighborhood, one that had been slowly degenerating for decades. Few of the streetlights were working, and those that were lit were spaced far apart, leaving wide expanses of darkness in which he might hide and wait.

He switched off the headlight and sat on the Ducati between two parked cars, letting the motorcycle engine quietly idle in the shadows. He listened for the sound of that particular car motor. He didn't have long to wait before the car appeared, just as he had seen in his vision, cruising slowly down the street, approaching that modest little house. 

Daniel pulled out behind the car and drove along, edging up closer, slowly approaching the driver's door. He watched the three men inside the vehicle craning their necks, all looking at that one house, their attention focused on their target rather than any bystanders or traffic on the street.

Daniel could see that they weren't aware of him at all, every head looking to the right, out the passenger side windows. 

The front seat passenger looked down into his lap, exactly as Daniel had seen in his vision.

The shooter was checking the load, Daniel knew. Then he would be thumbing off the safety and sticking his arm out the window. Daniel had only seconds to act.

He gunned the quiet engine, pulling up next to the driver as he pulled his sword from the scabbard mounted by his right leg. Matching the driver's speed and driving along beside the car, he extended the shining blade into the driver's open window, right in front of his face. The man was looking to the right, toward the house, and didn't see the blade until he went to glance back at the street.

He stomped on the brake and brought the car to a screeching stop, every head whipping around to see what had happened. The driver turned his head and made eye contact, his eyes wide with surprise as Daniel yanked the blade out of the open window.

"Take off. Right now. And don't come back," Daniel warned, his voice a menacing growl. "Because if you do, I'll know, and the cops won't find anything but little pieces of all three of you."

Daniel gunned the bike and drove it around in front of the car, squealing the tires as he made a sharp turn to face the car nose to nose.

For a moment he just stood there, legs spread on either side of the bike as he sat rock still, the sword pointing now directly at the windshield, challenging them, staring the driver down. 

All three of the criminals now stared at him rather than the house.

Suddenly the driver apparently decided that tonight would not be a good night to die. The car's tires screamed as it was rammed into reverse, backing all the way down the street to the nearest turn- off. With another squeal of the tires, Daniel heard it heading away into the night.

Daniel's heart hammered in his chest, thrilled that they hadn't decided to shoot him on the spot.

He sat there in the stillness, waiting to see if that was all that was required of him, hoping that now he would be able to go home and rest.

He wasn't that lucky. Immediately another vision careened through his mind, this one…

Daniel took in a quick breath, wincing slightly at the images rushing through his consciousness. _A man and woman sleeping in their bed, their innocent child at rest down the hall, and a predator coming to take what they held most dear... their lives._

This one would be bad, worse than all the rest. He didn't have much time, couldn't wait to think this one through. He sheathed his sword, opened the throttle and headed out of the neighborhood toward the highway. In his mind's eye, he saw the affluent Westside neighborhood clearly; wide, well-landscaped yards surrounding large homes with garages, so few cars were parked on the street. 

Guiding the Ducati onto US 24, Daniel ignored the speed limit, hurrying toward that terrible focus. His mouth was dry, his heart pounding like a jackhammer in his chest, mind focused like a laser on the crime scrolling through his consciousness. He gunned the engine, bending down low over the handlebars to reduce the wind drag and slip faster down the highway.

He felt every movement of the criminal, every glance up and down the sleeping street. Daniel sensed his intent as the man crept quietly into the family's back yard, checking the windows and doors, carefully working the lock on the patio door to gain entrance. This was a personal vendetta, and Daniel had to hurry. 

The intruder had his hand on the stairs and murder in his mind. The Man in Black could see everything he intended to do, repeated over and over like a mantra. 

Daniel left his motorcycle on the well-lit street, hastily parked at the curb. If he were spotted this time, so be it. He didn't have time to waste being careful with this one. He withdrew the sword and left his helmet dangling on the handlebar by the chinstrap.

Daniel could feel the killer's foot on the second step inside the house, all his focus on that one man. There wasn't time to try the front door, which Daniel knew would be locked anyway. He ran full speed at the house, hurling himself at a window in the front room, shattering the glass, hitting the floor in a well-practiced roll and coming up on his feet on the living room floor, sword at the ready.

The man on the stairs froze at the sound of breaking glass, turning to look at the ninja rolling across the floor.

Daniel took in the darkened room in a glance, the light from the streetlights outside the only illumination. The living room gave way to a wide foyer, flanked by stairs against the back wall. 

He saw the man look his way, startled by his appearance. With gracefully precise steps, knees well bent, Daniel moved across the living room floor toward the foyer, left hand extended forward, right close in with the sword held in a reverse grip, the spine of the blade extended slightly from the underside of his forearm. It gleamed with reflected light from the street, casting little sparkles of light against the stairs.

"Leave now and live," Daniel challenged, his voice husky with emotion, ringing with authority. "I know what you're planning to do here."

The would-be killer glared at him and pulled a pistol, aiming it right at him. "Well, if it ain't the Man in Black," he said with a growing smile. "You know what they say about those who live by the sword…" He cocked the revolver and closed one eye as he aimed.

Daniel started to move, making himself a hard target by keeping an uneven path as he advanced across the living room and into the foyer.

"…They get shot by those who don't," the killer finished with a chuckle.

Suddenly a light came on from the upstairs hall. "Oh, my God, it's Ben!" a woman screeched from the top of the stairs. "Doug, do something! He's got a gun!"

"Call the police, Anna," said the man standing beside her, keeping his eyes on the two intruders. "You and Brian get back in the bedroom." With a shaky hand, Doug aimed his own pistol at the man on the stairs, obviously terrified. "Anna doesn't want you, Ben. You can't have her, so leave us alone."

"Daddy, it's the Man in Black!" cried a little boy, peering through the balcony spindles and pointing into the living room. "Don't shoot him! He's the good guy!"

The woman caught the boy by the arm and towed him back down the hallway, out of sight.

Everything happened fast then. The intruder fired his pistol at Daniel and missed when his target anticipated and sidestepped, still advancing. The homeowner fired at Ben and missed, the bullet lodging in the wall well behind him. The burglar ran toward Daniel, taking aim again but the space between them closed too quickly and Daniel brought his sword across the guy's ribs, pushing the killer's gun hand up with his free hand and spinning around to give the man a hard strike to the back with his left elbow. The cut from Daniel's sword left the man's shirt hanging open, a red stripe angling across his chest oozing blood.

A stream of curses erupted from the killer, who was maddened with rage, pain and fear. He stumbled into the living room and glanced up the stairs, firing off a shot in that direction to make the homeowner back up. Daniel lunged for Ben, who swung the butt of his pistol back to collide with the side of Daniel's head. 

He saw stars for a moment. It was a second he couldn't afford to lose. Ben pushed the muzzle of his pistol hard against Daniel's chest and fired. The concussion launched him backward, knocking the air out of his lungs and slamming him hard against the wall. Stunned for a moment, Daniel just stood there, panting, watching the criminal raise his gun again, this time aiming right for his forehead.

Daniel looked down the barrel at his own death. If this were really it for him, he was determined to make it count. He could still scare the fucker, and just maybe he might get lucky for the second time that night.

He grinned, narrowing his eyes at the man. "Come and get me, asshole!" he snarled.

The homeowner fired again, hitting the carpet a foot from where the killer stood. In the distance, the wail of sirens could be heard approaching. Ben decided to cut his losses and run, taking the shortest way out through the shattered front window, right across Daniel's path.

"Next time, Anna," Ben shouted up the stairs. "You're mine, and don't you forget it! You'll always be mine!" He turned to leave, hurrying across the living room.

Summoning every bit of strength he possessed, Daniel flipped the sword in his hand to a forward grip and lunged, slicing through the killer's hamstring and dropping him instantly. The man lay screaming on the floor. Staggering forward, Daniel stepped on the man's wrist to make him drop his pistol. When the guy let his weapon go, Daniel kicked the pistol across the room, well out of the intruder's reach.

He looked up at the terrified homeowner just as his son reappeared at the top of the stairs beside him. "Thanks for the save," he told them breathlessly. "Don't touch that pistol." He pointed to the weapon on the floor. "Don't let him get to it, but don't touch it, either. The cops will need the fingerprints." He couldn't wait for a reply. He gave them a little salute and staggered toward the window, barely able to keep his feet.

"Thanks, Man in Black!" the little boy cried. "You're my hero!"

"Brian, get back to your room!" the father growled roughly. "What did I tell you?"

Daniel shut that out, but the combination of the boy's honest sentiment and the horrific searing pain in his chest brought tears to his eyes, which he wiped impatiently away. With some effort, he stumbled out to the street, gasping for breath against the pain. He half fell across the narrow seat, struggling to haul himself onto the Ducati. He started it up and rode away, driving in the opposite direction of the sirens, making sure he kept to the speed limit and didn't draw attention to himself. 

A block away, he carefully sheathed the sharp sword with shaking hands, and then struggled to take off the mask and put his helmet back on. He returned to the highway and eventually made his way back to the storage facility. 

Tears of pain streaming down his cheeks made it difficult to see, but he managed the drive with only a few bobbles. At the gate, he fumbled to get his helmet off and, with hands shaking so hard he could barely make them work, he punched in the entry code, heart sinking as yet another vision began to surface, clamoring for attention.

"Not again," he whimpered. He guided the bike through the gate, around the corner and into the interior driveway that led to his unit. His whole body was shaking, his chest hurting so much he could hardly breathe. "No more. Not tonight. I can't."

He parked the Ducati and pushed down the kickstand, just staring at the garage door, wondering how he was going to get the thing up and the bike inside.

Go.

Daniel tipped his face up to the starry sky and wept. He was sure he couldn't do this again right now, but he also didn't know how he could avoid doing it, because those inner voices were impossible to resist.

"God, help me," he sobbed. "What do I do now?"

~~**~~

On his way home from work, Jack headed through the light traffic in his truck, the opera playing on the radio turned way up. He decided to stop off for a few household items he needed from Wal-Mart and got distracted while shopping. He bought way more than he intended, losing nearly an hour in the store. It was nearly 2130 hours, and he still had a couple of other errands to run before he went home for the night. 

As he emerged from the store, Jack scanned the parking lot, partly out of habit, partly because something didn't feel right. Plastic bags dangling from his hands, he walked to his truck, gaze sweeping the darkened cars. He turned in a complete circle as he stood by the driver's door, then set his bags in the bed of the truck. He reached into his jacket pocket for his keys without taking his eyes off the scene.

He saw a suspicious looking man in an oversized denim jacket pop up from behind a dark blue Mercedes sedan. The guy was wearing a dark baseball cap pulled down over long, dirty blond hair. Jack watched him walk slowly among the cars in an area where one of the tall overhead lights was out. He studied the stranger, recognizing a predator when he saw one. A chill ran down Jack's spine as his threat assessment instincts went into full alert.

The man was unshaven, and his eyes gleamed with dark intent, hungry and restless. Jack saw him raise his head as if he could sense that he was being watched. The man made eye contact for a few seconds, then walked briskly to another car, got in and drove away in a hurry. Jack had gotten a good look at him. He assumed the man must have decided to try another place for his shady activities.

This wasn't anything that concerned Jack. No crime had been committed that he knew about, though he'd be sure to look in the papers the next day to be sure. He was just strung a little tight, both because of his worry over Daniel and the stress of the busy day. He knew he ought to be going home and getting some sleep.

He pulled out of the parking lot and headed for home. He passed a small hotel, heading north toward his Briargate neighborhood. On the street in front of him he spied a guy dressed in black, riding on a black motorcycle. There was no visible insignia on the bike, but from its lines and the quiet purr of the motor, Jack knew it was a Ducati. 

Those were rare out on the street because they were expensive, and dealerships didn't just spring up on every street corner. As far as Jack knew, the nearest one was in Denver. Ducatis were hot, with a completely different kind of reputation than Harleys, which were loud and heavy and mean, a biker's bike. Ducatis were the Rolls Royce of motorcycles, sleek and fast, all quiet elegance. This one, all in black, purred like a kitten as it rolled to a stop at the next red light in full stealth mode.

Jack wanted a closer look at that hot machine. He followed the biker down a block, keeping a respectful distance while he ogled the bike. The guy drove carefully, obeyed all the traffic laws, and drew no attention to himself. Jack's motor lust started to wane as the biker turned into the driveway of a storage facility. O'Neill continued to watch as he stopped at a nearby traffic light, taking one last look at the beautiful machine. 

There was something naggingly familiar about the guy riding it, too. His build, the way he sat, the way his head turned to watch traffic, the motions of his hands on the controls. Intuition pulled at Jack, but he couldn't think who he knew who might own one of those bikes. 

Curiosity kicked in, and Jack wondered if – just maybe – this might be the guy that had the Springs in such an uproar. He smiled as he casually followed the biker with his eyes, teasing himself and imagining what a kook the guy would have to be to pull the shenanigans he had so far. _What he wouldn't give to talk some sense into the man_!

While he watched, the biker took off his helmet with great difficulty, his body curled up over the handlebars as if he might pass out. The man struggled to punch in the security code that would open the wrought iron gate at the entrance of the storage facility. Jack saw the rider turn his head then, looking around him, his whole body moving with the rhythm of breathing as if he were panting, possibly in pain.

Jack decided he'd go see if the guy needed some help and started to turn into the driveway after him.

That was when Jack saw the biker's face. His guts clenched as he realized this really _could_ be the Man in Black. His eyes widened in shock and disbelief, a creeping cold gripping his heart as he recognized that familiar profile.

It was his best friend. Daniel Jackson.

~~**~~

Daniel could hardly make his hands obey him, fumbling with the lock on the garage door. His chest felt frozen, muscles locked up tight. It hurt to breathe, and he was sure he probably had a broken rib or two. 

Daniel was sweating and panting as he returned to sit on the bike, trying to decide what to do. He switched the motor off and stared at the door in agony, wanting nothing more than just to lie down for a little while. Only he couldn't get the door open in his present condition. 

He leaned against the seat, glancing up at the stars. It had taken three tries before he managed to fully dismount the bike, his breath coming out in little gusts of pain after that monumental effort. Head down, tears obscuring his vision, he tried to think of some way to get the garage door up that wouldn't require him to use his arms. 

_Go_ , the internal urge whispered in his mind. _Others are waiting. You are needed._

"I can't," he whimpered. 

Then he took one step closer to the Ducati, his mind now trying to assess how to get back on it so he could once again answer the call.

"Let me help you," a familiar voice rumbled in the darkness.

Daniel jerked his head up to look directly into a pair of stern- looking, worried eyes that Daniel could barely see inside the glowing outline. "Jack! Shit! What the hell are you doing here?" His voice was high-pitched and breaking, breathless, revealing just how much pain he was feeling.

"That's just what I asked myself about you when I saw you pull into this place," Jack returned, his voice heavy with concern, "all dressed in black and riding a motorcycle. I _think_ I know what it means, but I want you to tell me." 

Jack rolled the door up, waving Daniel inside as Jack pushed the heavy machine into the storage room and shut the door behind them. He felt along the darkened wall for the light switch and turned on the wan bulb.

Daniel just stood there with his head down, caught in the act, nowhere to run to and no place to hide. He was startled and a bit annoyed at finally being found out, but relief flooded through him at the same time. At last, someone knew. His secret was out, and now Jack could help him. He needed Jack to help him.

"It's you, isn't it?" Jack asked, an edge of concern in his voice. "Dammit, Daniel. You're the ninja the Springs is in such an uproar about, aren't you?" 

"Yes." There was no sense denying it now. "But I'm not crazy, Jack. I'm not," he insisted. Daniel _hoped_ he wasn't, anyway.

Jack came over to him, eyes sweeping up and down, fear and worry in his tense stance. "Obviously, you're not okay. Are you bleeding anywhere?"

An attempt to shrug brought a gasp of fresh pain to Daniel's lips. "Some asshole... shot me. Close range. Don't think I'm..." He groaned and winced. "…Bleeding. Hard to breathe." He had to talk in short bursts between shallow breaths. It was getting a little better, but talking taxed him dramatically. "Don't think I can. Lift my arms."

"God damn it," Jack growled softly. 

Face set, he came over to Daniel and fingered the jacket, taking note of the bullet hole and the scent of gunpowder clinging to it. "Of all the idiotic, stupid stunts you've pulled, Daniel," Jack groused under his breath, "this takes the fucking cake. Now we can't even leave you alone on your own world." 

"Not stupid," Daniel argued. He panted through his mouth. "Saving lives," he gasped through clenched teeth.

Jack nodded grimly. He carefully pulled the black leather jacket off, apologizing when Daniel grunted with pain. His expression softened a little as he spied the bullet-proof vest underneath. "You wore Kevlar. That was smart. Might be the only reason you're still alive."

Daniel wasn't sure he could raise his head now so he didn't try. His muscles were seizing up on him. Everything hurt. "I was thinking ahead. Knew somebody would. Shoot at me eventually. Just hoped it was. A body shot. Not in the head." He offered a weak smile of apology, knowing how pissed off and worried Jack was.

"Oh, fer cryin' out loud!" Jack ripped open the closures on the sides of the Kevlar vest and lifted it off over Daniel's head, letting it drop to the floor. Grasping the hem of Daniel's T-shirt, he tugged it free of his waistband and lifted the hem to check the area beneath where the hole had been in Daniel's jacket. A huge bruise covered most of his chest, already dark purple and blue. 

Daniel saw the light that was Jack flare a sickly green for a moment as if he were suddenly ill. 

Jack loosed a relieved sigh. "Well, you're not bleeding externally. That's good. We have to get you to the infirmary, though. By the looks of this bruising, you could have some internal bleeding, maybe a broken rib or two. We've gotta get you checked out, just to make sure."

"Jack." That was a plea. Daniel struggled to lift his head, wincing as he did. He still could only speak in small sentence fragments. "I'd rather. Call Janet. At home. Do this. Off the record."

"You know what she's gonna say." He glared. "You probably know what I'm gonna say, too."

Daniel took a couple gasping breaths. "Yeah. Believe me. I've been hearing. The possible. Lectures. In my head. For a couple weeks now. Can't we. Make up a story, Jack? I really don't. Want this. He winced with the effort that talking cost him. "To go on. Record. Anywhere."

Jack considered. "Only if this was the _last_ time you go ninja, Daniel."

"I can't. Promise that."

"Then I take you to the base infirmary and this goes on the record. Hammond will remand you to the base, maybe even turn you over to civilian authorities. You may not be charged with anything but they'll sure as hell want to know how you know where to go to catch a crime in progress. For that matter, so do I."

"I can't. Explain it," Daniel muttered. "I just know. I just. Follow the evil. To its source. I can feel it. After nightfall." He closed his eyes briefly and groaned. "It… it's getting harder and harder. To shut out. I think it's. Something left over. From when I was. Ascended. That's the. Only explanation. I have. For what's been happening to me."

Jack was silent for a moment, assessing, taking it in. "Is it the _only_ thing?"

The younger man lifted his head. "Dunno, Jack. I'm still working my way. Through all that. I can't say. What might pop up later. I didn't have this. Whatever it is. Until about a month ago."

Jack lifted his hand and let it rest on Daniel's shoulder where Daniel saw it burn with cool fire. Concern blossomed in his flickering bright silhouette. His voice was gentle. Worried. "Will you tell me if something else happens? Please?"

"I'm fine, Jack. I'll be. Okay."

"Yeah." His gaze dropped to the spreading bruise, then back up to Daniel's eyes as he crossed his arms over his chest. "I can see that."

Sometimes Jack was eloquent about making his point. Daniel grimaced. "I'll think about it. We'll talk later. Okay?"

Jack nodded. They walked outside together. Jack locked up behind them and assisted his teammate into his truck.

As they drove, the strange mental summons still tugged at Daniel. He struggled against it, drawing on Jack's presence and silent support for the strength to resist, to shut out the visions. Jack's gentle conversation during the ride to Janet's house helped distract him. Jack didn't know it, but he was helping him stay sane.

Half an hour later, Daniel sat on Janet Fraiser's sofa, his T-shirt pulled up and her skilled fingers probing at the bruise. He thought she was frowning but her expression wasn't clear in the wash of light that he saw inside the boundaries of her physical form.

"I've been a doctor in the military for a long time, Daniel," she said, an edge to her voice, "and I'm wondering why you didn't go directly to the infirmary with this."

"She should know the truth," said Jack flatly. "Tell her. Or I will."

Janet sat back on her heels on the sofa. "Someone shot you tonight, didn't they? I've seen bruises like this before so I know what I'm looking at here. The truth, Daniel."

Daniel nodded reluctantly. He was still hurting, but at least now he could speak a bit more normally. "Um… yeah. Close range impact against a Kevlar vest." 

The ghostly lines of Janet's mouth firmed up into a frown. "Who shot you?" she demanded, now probing the bruise deeper toward its epicenter. "You're lucky to be alive. What the hell happened?"

"Ow!" Daniel winced. "Does it matter?" he returned guiltily. "I'd really rather not say."

"All right. You can give me the details later," Janet scolded, pulling his shirt back down. "But you _will_ tell me what happened. Let's go. We need to take some X-rays."

"Want me to wake up Cassie while you dress and tell her where you're going?" Jack asked.

She smiled at him warmly. "She's at a girlfriend's for the night, colonel. Nothing to worry about here." 

Looking down at Daniel, she patted his shoulder. "Let's go. You can tell me about it on the way. Colonel, I'm riding in with you two. Give me a minute to get dressed."

Daniel remained silent, in too much pain to move. Jack coughed nervously and reached into his pocket for his keys, then nodded toward the door. He helped Daniel back into the truck, then climbed into the driver's seat and sat waiting for the doctor to emerge from the house.

"She needs to know the whole truth if she's gonna figure out what's wrong with you," Jack told him.

"Nothing's wrong with me," Daniel snapped automatically, his jaw set stubbornly. He slumped against the door, avoiding looking at his companion, knowing how stupid he'd sounded. Of course something was fucking wrong with him.

"You're not sleeping at night. You're not eating. You fall asleep at your desk. You're having migraines on a daily basis. You're shaking like a junkie in need of a fix. You're suddenly an expert at hand-to- hand fighting, particularly with a knife in your hands." Jack's glowing silhouette darkened. "You look like you've been in combat for a year, shell shocked and barely coherent. I've seen enough men on the battlefield, Daniel. I know the look when they've been fighting too long, and it's all over you."

Daniel looked up at him, at the way he brightened the night. He was filled with golden fire, his features barely discernable now to Daniel, just a shimmering shape studying him from behind the wheel. Daniel glanced back at the house, and he could actually see Janet inside, through the walls, her body an indistinct glow moving now toward the front door.

She stepped outside, flaring brilliantly now that there were no obstructions between them. She came up to the truck and spoke to Jack through the driver's side window. "I'll meet you two at the base," Janet told him.. "I decided I'd rather take my car, so you can tell me about it when we get there."

"Yes, ma'am," Jack answered, starting the engine and backing out of the driveway.

Daniel sighed and leaned his head against the cool glass in the passenger window. "I don't know what to say, Jack. I mean, I know you're right, but…" He shrugged, turning to look at the light show that was Jack O'Neill.

"I didn't realize how good a liar you are `til yesterday," Jack mused. His tone of voice was light, casual, but the weight of his words was heavy with disappointment and suffering. "You stood there in the gym and lied your ass off, telling me you fell on those stairs when I knew damn well you hadn't been to see Hammond, because we'd been keeping you away from there for days. I know sometimes lying is necessary but I thought, after all we've been through together--"

"I'm sorry," Daniel shot back sincerely. "This wasn't exactly something I thought you ought to know."

"That's not the point. I understand what 'top secret' means and lying about that stuff is second nature to me. You should have come to me with this." Jack kept his eyes on the road and traffic but the stiffness in his posture made it perfectly clear how angry and distressed he was.

"I didn't know how," Daniel told him honestly in a small voice. "I mean, it's not something I can put into words. I don't know how it happens. It's like being inside a nightmare, except I can't wake up. It's just something I have to do. I'm actually compelled to do it."

"You prepared for it. You bought that motorcycle and all that gear. Daniel, you can't do this any more. You're scaring me. I don't wanna see you get yourself killed. It stops as of right now." He swallowed hard, his voice soft and concerned as he added, "And you _never_ lie to me again." He glanced at Daniel. "Agreed?"

That hurt Daniel. He knew it was hurting Jack, too. "Never again," he promised, "and I mean that. Word of honor."

Jack's eyes never strayed from the task of driving. "All right. From one warrior to another," he reminded his friend. "I can accept that. Your word is good enough for me."

There was something satisfying to that assessment for Daniel. It brought him a sense of peace, of things set right between them. Daniel didn't think Jack had ever considered him a warrior before tonight. Maybe something good had come from this after all. Daniel told him a little about the visions on the way back to the base, knowing that Jack was just concerned, and he wouldn't judge him.

At the base, Janet ordered X-rays taken and then listened patiently to Daniel's confession. After she got over the shock of his wild story, she went into full doctor mode, asking questions about Daniel's disturbed sight and other physical anomalies, when they had started, how they manifested and what he had done to try to stave them off. 

She ordered a battery of new tests. After checking his X-rays, she informed him that he did, indeed, have one broken and one cracked rib. She taped him up, medicated him for the pain, and checked him into the infirmary. Then she left to start full body workups on her newest patient.

Jack stared down at him from his usual perch on a stool as Daniel lay fidgeting in his regular bed in the small ward. "You okay now? How's the pain? Need anything? And don't say you're fine, because I already know you're not."

"Pain's better, and I don't need anything but sleep." Daniel draped his arm over his aching eyes, trying to shut out the brightness of his companion's illuminated shape, but he could still see it even through his own arm and closed eyelids. He was exhausted and feeling short tempered.

A tense silence fell between them.

Jack cleared his throat. "Look, Daniel, I don't know what you're going through," he said softly, "but I can tell you that you won't be going through it alone. I'm here for you. So are Carter and Teal'c, right here if you need us. Whatever it is, we'll deal with it together. We're a team. I think you must've forgotten that since you've been back. You're not alone anymore, dammit, and you should never think you are. Or act like you are."

Daniel offered a weak smile. "I know, Jack. I know. I just… I have to do _something_. I can't just don't know how I can lie there in my bed at night and do nothing while people are dying."

"So I'll go with you," Jack offered gently, "to watch your six."

With a firm shake of his head, Daniel lowered his arm from his eyes and met Jack's steady gaze. "No. It's too…" His shoulders slumped as what he'd been about to say registered.

"…dangerous?" Jack finished for him. He nodded. "Yeah. I know. That's why I asked you to stop." He hesitated, absently pressing out a crease in the linens on the bed beside his friend's shoulder. "Daniel, I know I don't have to remind you that what we do here is important to the many, as well as the few. We save lives on a regular basis, lives of people who don't even know about the danger threatening them. I'm not saying that the one or two you connect with in this…" His hands waved about, his mind searching for the right word to describe what Daniel had told him about this unsettling ability, "…this mystical ninja thing you've been doing don't matter, but there have to be ways we can help them without putting you in the line of fire." 

Jack pointed to Daniel's chest, right at the epicenter of the bruise, as a reminder. "Death can come for any of us at any time, Danny. I just wanna make sure it counts for something really big when I go, and if we have to lose you _again_ , well…" He glowed a little brighter, his voice filled with sadness and admiration. "You seem to have a knack for making an exit. I just don't want to tempt fate. You know?"

Daniel's heart caught in his throat. He wished he could see Jack's face, read his expression or his eyes, but his friend was only a Jack- shaped light filling up the room. Still, he could sense the depth of friendship flowing between them, the heartfelt concern, the anxiety, the pride. He was sure of that, though, that on some small level, Jack O'Neill was proud of him, of what he'd been doing. Shocked and alarmed, certainly; but part of him was cheering Daniel's bravery and good deeds. 

"Okay, Jack," he sighed. "No more ninja runs. I already promised you. I won't forget."

The colonel wilted visibly with relief and smiled. "Great. Thanks." He paused, head cocked, thinking. "So… you gonna sell the motorcycle now?"

Daniel tried to suppress a smile. "Sam's birthday is next month. How about if I give it to her?"

"She'll think you're coming on to her. That's an awfully expensive birthday present."

"She knows me better than that." He shrugged, still twitching. "I'll think of something." He squirmed in the bed. "I don't deserve that wall, Jack."

"It's a done deal now, buddy. And there are some of us here who think you deserve it more than anybody else." Jack patted his shoulder. "I'm gonna go home now. You okay for the night?"

Daniel nodded. "Yeah. I am tired." The medication Janet had given him had relaxed him thoroughly. He yawned. "Maybe I'll actually be able to sleep tonight."

"I hope so. Call if you need anything. I'll be back in the morning, first thing, Danny."

Daniel felt a sudden peace filling him. Jack hadn't called him that in a very long time. Maybe the tension and distance Daniel remembered between them was finally falling away, and they could be friends again as they had been in the early days. He hoped so. Whatever it took to restore that friendship, Daniel was willing to do. He knew Jack wanted to talk about all this. Some of it, though, like the way Daniel saw people now, he couldn't describe, even with his skill with language.

Jack hesitated, something else on his mind, his brows pinched in confusion. 

"What?" asked Daniel as he restlessly rearranged the blankets for the third time in five minutes.

Jack's voice grew serious with concern. "You gonna be okay?"

Daniel shrugged. "I don't know. We'll see." He offered a half-hearted smile of hope. "Good night, Jack. I'll see you tomorrow."

"`Night, Daniel. Stay put, okay?" He slipped his hands into his trouser pockets and left for home.

Daniel lay in the bed in the softly lit room, staring up at the familiar ceiling. Another fragment of memory fell into place, and he shuddered, closing his eyes. He remembered Reese, standing in the `gate room with her, desperately trying to help her understand the cost of what she was doing to his world and what she had done to her own.

_Your father made you wrong._

What if…

Daniel opened his eyes and looked at the ceiling, his heart clenching inside his chest.

What if, when he descended, he'd _come back_ wrong somehow?

Or what if this was part of his punishment by the Ancients, that he would be able to sense all this terrible evil and be forced to do nothing about it, to teach him a lesson?

"Oh, God," Daniel whispered to the empty room. He felt certain that was exactly what had happened now. Living with a burden like that would drive him mad. Even now, his body desperate for rest, his mind hazy with drugs, he could feel it, those visions of horror rising up in his consciousness, pressing him to action, telling him exactly what would happen, and where it would be waiting.

_Go_ , the awareness urged. _Help them. You are needed._

He fought it. For many minutes, he tried desperately to resist the compelling need, lecturing himself about the promise he'd made Jack, but it was useless. 

He got up and toddled on unsteady legs toward the doorway of the otherwise empty ward. He eased his head around the corner to catch sight of the nurse's station. Due to the late hour, there was only one nurse on duty. She was busy, head down, writing in a chart. Impatience gnawed at him like a physical thing, prodding him to move. If he were caught he was sure they wouldn't allow him another chance to escape, so he had to be careful even as he wanted to hurry. 

Finally the woman turned away to answer the phone behind her. Wasting no time, Daniel slipped out, hugging the wall, angling around to the side of the station. He darted up to the half wall surrounding the counter, crouching down as best he could, one arm wrapped around his aching ribs, and scurried past without her notice.

Sweating with the effort to move soundlessly, his body screaming with pain, he managed to slip out the entrance to the infirmary without notice, and straightened up just outside the door. He wiped the perspiration from his face with his palms and struggled to catch his breath in quick, shallow gulps. The medication made him light-headed, but it helped with the pain, easing slightly now that he was no longer bent over.

Minutes later he staggered into the elevator and made his way to SG- 1's locker room. He pulled on jeans and a sweater, struggling to get his shoes on his feet, whimpering with the pain but not giving in to it. 

Back in the elevator again, he rode it up to the 11th floor, where he signed out, taking no notice of the guard's concerned look, and headed for the topside gate. 

As he walked, he fished his cell phone out of his pocket to call for a taxi. He arrived at the guard's hut at the base's entry gate, giving the guards a smile and nod as he always did. They let him out and turned back to their duties while he waited for the cab to arrive. He was sweating and trembling but single-minded and focused on what he had to do. His earlier promise to Jack was not forgotten, but put aside in favor of more important things. 

During the taxi ride, his mind zoned in and out, sometimes sharp and clear as the visions pushed at him, and sometimes he nodded off from the medication. 

He had the taxi drop him right at the gate of the storage facility, no longer caring if anyone saw him go inside, lacking the energy to take his usual precautions. He just wanted to get the job done now, work through the night until dawn, when the urgency would fade, and he would be able to rest.

He paid the cab and wearily punched in the code for the security gate. Stumbling through the cool darkness, he made his way to his rented unit, pausing at the smaller walk-in door to try to undo the combination lock. 

He stared dumbly at the door handle, trying to remember if he or Jack had put the lock back on or not earlier, because it was now gone. Daniel wobbled, leaning heavily against the doorframe. He lifted one hand to wipe his face, barely remembering that he had neither glasses nor contacts to help him see. He had left those on the bedside table in the infirmary.

"Doesn't matter," he mumbled to the night. Daniel punched in his code for the walk-in door and stepped inside the unit. He groaned as he reached for the light switch, now trying to think how he was going to get the garage door up. He flipped on the overhead light, illuminating the inside of the unit with a wan glow.

Another light glowing brightly inside the room brought his head up instinctively, and he stood staring at the human-shaped beacon reclining in his bedroll, now propped up on one elbow and glaring at him. Daniel didn't have to see the features on the face to recognize that radiant personality.

"Jack? What are you doing here?" Daniel muttered, stumbling inside the room. "You should be home in bed."

"So should you," Jack reminded him, throwing the sleeping bag open. He climbed out and got to his feet as Daniel wandered over and leaned his butt against the motorcycle seat. "What the hell are you doing here? You're not thinking of going out again tonight, are you?"

"Have to go," Daniel mumbled, rubbing his face with both hands, ignoring the pain in his chest that accompanied that small movement. "Don't have a choice."

Jack stood there in sweats and a T-shirt, hands on hips, just looking at him, worry radiating off him in waves. "You promised me you wouldn't do this, God damn it. What's going on, Daniel?"

"Dunno. Just gotta go. You wanna get outta my way?" He still had to change clothes but resting against the Ducati's seat felt good because he wasn't moving. 

_Go. Help them. You are needed. Soon it will be too late…_

The urgency increased. The vision became clearer. He had to go. He made a feeble, half-hearted attempt to push Jack out of the way.

"You're asleep on your feet," Jack reminded him, catching him by the shoulders. "You're under the influence of some pretty powerful drugs. If you get on that motorcycle, you'll kill yourself. I can't let you leave on that thing. You don't even have your glasses, for cryin' out loud. You can't even see to drive it. Besides, I snagged the keys to this place and the Ducati from your stuff in the infirmary." He paused, arms crossing over his chest. "Now I want the spares."

"Find `em yourself," Daniel snapped. God, he was so out of it, he hadn't even realized he didn't have any keys anymore. 

He saw Jack's hands settle on his hips in that do-what-I-told-you stance and capitulated, unable to summon enough strength to continue arguing. He sagged back against the motorcycle's seat. 

"Okay, okay. You win," he said in a resigned voice. He pointed with his chin to a metal shelf unit built into the back wall. "They're taped to the back of a metal strip fixed to the underside of the shelf above the bottom. Feel for the edge of the metal. It's hard to see where I joined the extra plate on it."

Jack obeyed, carefully feeling around for the false bottom, pulled it loose and stuffed the extra set of keys into his pants pocket. "These the only spares?" he asked, stuffing the keys into his pocket as he straightened up. 

"Yeah."

Jack returned to stand beside his teammate and patted him on the shoulder, pushing a little to get Daniel going. "Come on. Move your sorry ass. We're going back to the base."

Daniel stretched slowly, trying to shrug Jack's hand off him without actually getting off the seat. "I'm fiiiiine," he argued, his words affected by the medication, head lolling listlessly, eyes drifting closed for a little too long.

"Yeah, sure you are. But I'm taking you back," Jack repeated tensely. "No arguments." He was gathering up his wallet and keys, putting on his shoes so he could leave with Daniel.

The sudden memory of a locked room with a guard posted outside filled Daniel's mind. His head snapped up, eyes widening with alarm as he realized what might await him back on the base. "No, Jack, please! I'm begging you!" Fear jolted through his system, and he pushed at Jack's chest as he spoke. "What if they lock me up? It'll kill me, I know it will, I swear, Jack, please, don't _do_ that to me! Not again. I'm not crazy. I'm _not_!"

"It won't kill you," Jack returned calmly. He reached down into his trouser pocket with his right hand, placing his left on Daniel's shoulder. "We'll take care of you, Daniel. You know that. We don't wanna hurt you." He gripped harder, thumb and fingers wrapping around Daniel's upper arm. "And we don't want you to hurt yourself. Now, we can do this easy, or we can do it hard. Your choice."

"Jack, they'll lock me up," Daniel begged, growing more alarmed by the moment. He twisted, trying to get out of Jack's iron grip but his injury, his weakness and Jack's preparedness for any move, kept him in the man's grasp. "Please, I have to--"

"No, you _don't_ have to, dammit," Jack snapped angrily. "You _can't_. I won't let you kill yourself, and if you go out again tonight that's exactly what you'll be doing. My truck's parked at that motel down the street, so decide how you want it. Are you walking, or am I carrying you?"

Daniel felt himself crumbling inside. He knew what they might do to him, but he had no choice. He was hurt, and Jack was still a far better fighter than he was. He wished he could see the other man's face rather than the brightly burning silhouette with the vague lines where eyes, nose and mouth should be. He needed to see Jack's expression, his eyes, needed to know there was more than anger and disappointment there.

Daniel stopped resisting, actually relieved that someone was there to take care of him, and he wouldn't have to feel so desperately alone and frightened anymore. He didn't know what the hell was happening, hadn't for some time, and maybe Jack could make things right somehow. The responsibility for the decisions had been thankfully removed from him for the moment. He didn't have a choice, and right then that felt like a pretty good thing.

"I'm walking." He let Jack lead him, one strong hand wrapped firmly around his upper arm. They exited the storage unit, and Jack replaced the lock. They walked back to the main gate and down the street to the nearby motel, Jack's hand on his arm to keep him upright and steady. And also quite possibly to keep him from getting away.

"I'm not crazy, Jack," he whispered brokenly, trying to convince himself of that as well as his friend. "I tried to stop. I tried to stay in bed, but I couldn't. I had to go out. I couldn't stop myself."

He leaned against the truck as Jack unlocked the door in silence. "You promised me no more ninja runs," Jack growled as he pulled the door open, anger and hurt thickening his voice. "I'm scared shitless, Daniel. This is way more serious than I thought when I first saw you on that Ducati. As if _that_ wasn't scary enough, realizing you were the Springs ninja, for cryin' out loud." He caught Daniel up under the arms, helping lift him onto the running board of the big truck and then up into the passenger seat. "I cannot believe you are out here again," he growled.

"I _wanted_ to keep my promise. I tried, Jack. I _tried_." He took a deep breath and put his head down, whimpering, miserable, desperate, sick at heart. "Help me. Please help me."

"I will. Don't worry." Jack's voice was soft and shaky. He patted Daniel on the arm in a comforting gesture. 

He locked and closed the door, hurrying around to the driver's side. He got in and started the truck, driving them back toward the base.

A relieved rush of breath left Daniel. He slumped against the seat, his head leaning against the cool glass of the passenger window, eyes closed. "Jack... I'm so scared. Something's really wrong with me. In ways you can't begin to imagine."

In the cool darkness of the cab, Jack reached out and patted him on the shoulder, his voice full of sympathy and shared pain. "I know. We'll find out what it is, and we'll help you, Daniel. Just hang on. Doc Fraiser's probably ready to hang you out to dry by now. I'm assuming you didn't sign yourself out?"

Daniel nodded. "No. I sneaked out of the infirmary. God, Jack, I feel like I'm coming apart inside."

Jack's hand was warm and comforting, rubbing a small circle there on his shoulder. "We'll help you," he promised.

Jack parked the truck and walked him back into the base, calmly informing the SF at the security desk on 11 not to allow Daniel to leave the mountain until Jack or General Hammond rescinded the restriction. He didn't offer any embarrassing explanations, just made sure Daniel couldn't leave without permission.

Daniel signed in, barely able to see the book in the light wash from the people around him. Jack escorted his teammate back to the infirmary, and Janet walked them personally to one of the isolation rooms, mouth pressed into a firm, disapproving line. She held back on the lecture. Daniel wasn't in any shape to tolerate a browbeating. That must have been obvious, judging from the sympathy in her eyes.

"Do you think you can sleep now?" Jack asked him quietly.

Daniel lay staring up at the ceiling. "No. All I see is..." He shuddered and closed his eyes but the images only became more violent, more vivid. "It's awful, what people are doing to each other out there. Maybe if I went off-world, to someplace where there aren't any other people, just us..."

Jack and Janet exchanged a look. "I can't let you do that, Daniel," Janet reminded him, "and I'm going to have to post security at the door to make sure you don't walk out of here again." She patted his arm and went out to check his chart.

Daniel couldn't think clearly. He was drowning in those images, and in self-defense he began to talk about them, to describe to the best of his ability what he saw and heard and felt in those terrifying visions. He talked until his voice began to falter, and Jack got him a drink of water.

He found it odd that Jack didn't interrupt or ask questions, just let him talk while Janet went in and out, taking her blood samples, listening to his heart and giving orders to the nurses on duty in the back of the big, spacious room. He ignored the medical staff's poking and prodding, focusing his attention on what was going on inside him and the man sitting on the stool beside his bed, riveted to his every word.

Daniel knew Jack had probably seen much worse in his lifetime as a soldier, so he was the perfect person with whom to share this confidence. Daniel couldn't stop, describing in detail the crimes being committed, where they were happening, who suffered and died, and who was doing those heinous things. He wanted to be out there, stopping those crimes before they happened but he was only one man. He couldn't save them all and, in the shape he was in at that moment, he couldn't help anyone without getting himself killed.

In time, the visions faded and his mind quieted. Daniel knew that dawn must be breaking outside. He eyed his friend and finally could see the sympathy and anguish in Jack's eyes, in that welcome view of his friend's normal, solid face without the light show. Daniel didn't want to see those emotions now, didn't want to see anything. 

A glance at Jack's watch confirmed that dawn had come to the world on the surface Finally it was time for Daniel to rest.

With a sigh, he closed his eyes, relieved that the torment had stopped for the space of another day, and instantly Daniel fell asleep, his faithful friend nearby to watch over him until he awakened.

~~**~~

Later, Jack stood by while he watched Daniel slip into the MRI tube. This was the last test of the day, and Doctor Fraiser's shift was about to end. Test after test had been run, with Daniel sleeping heavily through most of them, and most of the results would be coming in shortly.

All day Jack had been in Daniel's shadow, never leaving him alone for long, always checking to see if any room in which he had to separate himself from his `prisoner' had more than one exit. Daniel hadn't tried to escape, however, and often fell asleep during examinations. 

Fraiser had ordered up every test in the book, not certain what she was seeking. This was an unusual case, and she had no real direction to seek answers to the hallucinations, the migraines or elevated heart rate. Jack had tried to question her about her theories concerning Daniel's condition, but she had always refused to speculate and firmly told him he'd have to wait.

Checking his watch, Jack did the countdown to sunset. He called Teal'c and Carter to meet him outside the MRI room.

"What word on DanielJackson?" the Jaffa asked as he glided to a stop beside his commander, concern evident in his usually unreadable expression.

"Nothing yet." Jack glanced at his watch again. In half an hour it would be sundown. "He's been sleeping most of the day, which is good. He needed that."

"That's good, I guess," Carter added. "Any idea when we might know something?"

The technician finished his test and ran the carriage on which Daniel lay out of the tube. Jack could see Daniel through the video camera in the MRI room and sensed instantly that something had changed in his younger friend. 

Daniel's eyes were wide open. When he got up off the carriage, his eyes gleamed intensely, mouth set in a grim line. He stood straighter, shoulders back, chin dipped low like a bull ready to charge. The door to the MRI room opened and he rushed out, right into Jack's path.

Turning to the technician, Daniel asked brusquely, "Are you done with me?"

"Yes, sir, Doctor Jackson. You can go back to the infirmary now to wait for Doctor Fraiser. We'll have the test results sent up as soon as they're done."

Jack caught Daniel by the elbow and steered him toward the door.

Daniel shook his hand off. "I can get there by myself, Jack. You don't have to nursemaid me."

"I think I do," Jack returned, tension already starting to mount inside him. He could feel the waves of intensity starting to radiate off the other man.

Teal'c cocked his head. "Is something upsetting you, DanielJackson?"

"I'm fine," he snapped, glaring at his friends. "Will everybody please just stop asking me that?" He stomped down the corridor, frowning at everyone he passed, his three teammates in tow.

They came to a Y-corridor and suddenly Daniel bolted in the wrong direction.

Jack was after him instantly, with Teal'c hot on his heels. Daniel was a powerful runner, but he had more muscle to move than Jack's leaner build. The older man caught up to him, grasping him by the back of his scrub shirt. He pushed Daniel up against the nearest wall, trying to pin him with his body. Daniel grunted with pain, but pivoted at the last second, bounced against the wall on his shoulder and came back at Jack with a punch to the abdomen.

That knocked the wind out of him for a moment, and Daniel was able to free himself from Jack's grip on his clothes. He took one step away, heading back the way they had come, and ran smack into Teal'c's broad chest. The Jaffa flattened him against the wall, crushing Daniel there with his big, powerful body.

Daniel howled in agony, frozen in place, unable to move.

Jack caught Daniel's wrist, bent it back and pushed against Daniel's elbow, locking his arm. He nodded to Teal'c, who did the same with Daniel's other wrist, then stepped away. "Keep his arms locked, T. We'll take him back to the isolation room. Carter, you call Fraiser."

She was already jogging down the corridor to the nearest phone.

"You knew he would attempt to escape," Teal'c surmised.

"Let's say I had a good hunch," Jack admitted. "Whatever the hell this thing is, it starts every day at dusk."

Daniel could hardly breathe, grunting with every exhalation, slightly bent over as he stumbled along between them. They walked Daniel to Isolation Room 4 and, when the door closed behind them, Jack let Daniel loose.

"I have to go, Jack," Daniel insisted in a low voice, folding his arms across his damaged chest. "I have to be out there." He waved aimlessly and wandered away, pacing the floor near the door, hugging himself.

"Back off, Daniel," Jack ordered, his voice low and filled with warning. "Move away from the door. You're not going out there. You can't."

Daniel's eyes glazed over. He moved like a caged animal, his body tensed and ready to charge. Jack knew that as soon as the door opened to admit the doctor, Daniel would try to break out. He was getting stronger, fighting better, resisting the pain of his injury with each passing moment, and without extra help or a solution to this problem, Jack knew Daniel would be much harder to bring down a second or third time, even damaged as he was.

When the door started to open, Jack acted, rushing Daniel and tackling him. They wrestled on the floor for a moment, and Jack caught a hard punch in the mouth before Daniel pushed him off. He sprang up and ran right past Fraiser and Sam, who were now fully into the room, scrabbling at the closed door, howling in frustration and pain when he couldn't get out.

Jack got up slowly, blotting his mouth with his palm and looking for blood. There wasn't any but he felt his lip already starting to swell from getting caught between his teeth, and Daniel's fist. "This is not good, doc," he observed quietly. "Hurt as he is, he's really strong. And absolutely determined."

Janet studied Daniel for a moment. She eased up behind him and put one hand lightly on his shoulder to get his attention as she called his name. He shrugged her off and went back to tugging on the door.

"Daniel, I need to talk to you about your test results," she called a little louder. "Daniel!"

He shot her a glare that spoke volumes and jerked away to pace the room, eyes burning with challenge. Every effort she made to connect with him failed. He didn't seem to hear or understand her at all, lost in the visions searing his mind. His arms clasped his head as he paced, looking more tortured by the minute.

Daniel ran at the door once more, pounding his fist into the steel barrier without the slightest flicker of pain crossing his face. He put his head down and marched right past Janet, pacing the room again, staring at the floor, seeing nothing. His shoulders were hunched up, his fists flexing and relaxing, breath coming out with every exhalation in a low growl.

She turned back to the colonel. "I think it's time we helped him calm down a little," she began, looking at her patient again with new eyes, "so I can talk to him." She picked up the phone by the door and called for two orderlies, specially trained to deal with violent patients, then phoned a nurse to bring her a syringe filled with a powerful tranquilizer.

Teal'c stationed himself in front of the door, an immovable barrier. Daniel stared at him, head down as he paced, eyes flicking toward any movement of the others, watching for any opportunity to escape. He moved like a caged tiger, all leashed power and feline grace.

When the three men arrived, Janet sent the rest of SG-1 out into the hall to wait. The trio headed up to the observation booth at a fast jog, all of them anxious to see what would happen to their friend.

Janet spoke to the orderlies in a huddle by the door. When they turned to regard their quarry, they moved in fast. Daniel promptly laid two of them out on the floor, a dangerous, defiant gleam in his eyes as he studied the third.

The two downed men got up quickly and began to circle around him, gradually moving closer while Janet talked to him, her voice low and soothing.

"Let us help you, Daniel," she cajoled gently. "I need to talk to you, and you need to listen to me. If you'll lie down on your bed and be quiet, we won't have to do this the hard way."

Daniel eyed her briefly, his gaze shifting to check the location of the men, turning his head and changing position, half crouched, ready for action. One man came up quickly behind Daniel, embracing him and trapping his arms at his sides. The other joined in and caught at Daniel's legs. Janet slipped in, quickly injected Daniel in the arm with the Valium, and stepped back.

Daniel yelped and broke free of their grasp, darting away swiftly. On Janet's signal, the orderlies backed off, posting themselves by the door to wait for the medication to take effect.

Jack stood at the window, leaning over the counter, hands clenched into fists. "C'mon, Daniel," he breathed, wishing the drugs would kick in as fast as it did in the movies. He watched his younger teammate pace the room, rushing to ram his shoulder into the door in frustration, then pacing in the back of the room like a wild thing, head down, glaring at the medical staff from beneath his heavy brows with a mixture of rage and terror gleaming in his eyes. He never spoke a word.

O'Neill was grateful for the presence of his other two teammates, who edged slowly closer to him in unconscious support, each of them drawing on the others for strength and unspoken comfort.

Twenty long minutes passed as they watched. Daniel began to wobble and stagger, finally stumbling over to the bed. He lurched against it, holding his head in his hands, his fingers kneading his forehead wearily. The orderlies helped him onto the bed, raising the side rails to keep him from falling off.

"Jesus," whispered Jack. He sat down heavily in the chair, swallowing down the lump in his throat, unable to take his eyes off the scene below him.

Janet motioned the orderlies out the door, then leaned over the bed, one hand stroking Daniel's hair to help comfort and calm him while she talked to her patient in a low voice. He was very lethargic, but he seemed to understand her. He blinked slowly and nodded his head from time to time. She leaned down to hear something he mumbled to her, then gave him a reassuring smile and a pat on the shoulder.

Afterward she stepped into the observation room to speak with Daniel's commanding officer, requesting that Carter and Teal'c give them a moment of privacy. "He's obviously off the roster for any missions in the foreseeable future," she informed him. "I haven't been able to pinpoint a cause for this condition, but I'll continue working on it. All I can tell you is… it's very serious. I think you and I need to speak with General Hammond and have a briefing about what I've discovered so far."

Jack glanced down at the floor. "I guess everybody has to know the truth, huh?"

She nodded, her eyes sympathetic. "I don't see any way around it. If his recent behaviors as the Man in Black are a result of whatever's causing his illness, then knowing everything we can about all that could well help us figure out what happened and how to help him."

Lifting his gaze slowly to meet hers, he cleared his throat. "It's not… all in his mind… is it?"

With a sigh, she looked down into the isolation room at the still form of the man on the bed. "The human mind is capable of a great many things, colonel. Far more than we truly understand at this moment in our technological development." She dragged her gaze back to his face, worry evident in her expression. "I can't say for certain that it's not all in his mind. What I _believe_ is that there must be a physical cause for what's happening to him, most likely some kind of alien influence. I just haven't been able to pinpoint it. Yet."

His throat tightened, making his voice deepen and roughen as he spoke again. "How bad is it?"

She tried to smile a little. "I don't really know. But I think he's okay for now."

Jack didn't have to hear the other shoe drop to know what she wasn't saying.

If they didn't find out what was wrong with Daniel, he wouldn't stay okay. "Let's get everyone together," Jack told her. "I'll call General Hammond at home now and let you know when he'll be here."

His eyes on Daniel, Jack heard her leave. He picked up the phone in the booth, dialing the number he knew by heart, his eyes still on the room below. Rubbing his palm over the sore spots on his abdomen and then on his jaw where Daniel had punched him, Jack relayed the information to his C.O. 

He stayed in the booth for the next hour, keeping vigil with Daniel, until Hammond phoned him from his office to let him know he'd arrived back on base. Then, after a quick call to Janet to inform her that the meeting was set, Jack left to go to the briefing room.

~~**~~

Cup of coffee in hand, Janet Fraiser sat down at the briefing table with her battery of test results. It was the middle of the evening, and she had run every conceivable test on her patient, watching him grow wilder as the night advanced. During the day he had been calm and completely rational. She had watched the change happen, starting with the setting of the sun.

Doctor Fraiser opened her folder with a sigh. She eyed each person down the rows of chairs – Sam across from her sitting beside Teal'c, the colonel to her left and General Hammond at the head of the table. She saw the concern in each of their faces and felt as if she had failed them all somehow. 

"First, let me assure you that Daniel has given his permission for me to discuss his condition with you, in the hopes that an answer may be found through our collaborative efforts on his behalf." Glancing back over the test results, she tried to jiggle some intuition loose that might give her a direction to continue her investigation but there was nothing. She was at a dead end. "Unfortunately, I have very little to tell you," she began dispiritedly.

"Whaddya mean?" Colonel O'Neill demanded. "There's somethin' wrong with Daniel. That's obvious."

"Yes, it is," she nodded. "With the coming of nightfall, whether he is aware of the time of day or not, he becomes agitated. His desperation increases as the night wears on, but during the day it vanishes almost completely. My test results show an increase in adrenaline that accompanies the agitation, pushing it to dangerous levels in his system." 

"So sedate him through the night," Jack suggested.

She swallowed hard and lifted her eyes to each of the members of SG-1 sitting at the table, ending with the colonel. "It's not that simple, sir. You're familiar with the fight-or-flight reflex?"

"Of course."

Her eyes fell on the EKG readings that revealed how Daniel's heart had behaved through out the previous night, all day, and now moving into another night. "During the day, Daniel's exhausted but all his body functions are normal. At least once the adrenaline wears off." She lifted her eyes to his, looking for analogies he might understand to help illustrate the danger Daniel was facing.

"Look at it this way. Imagine you're standing on a street corner. You start to cross, and a car nearly hits you. _Bam_! Fight-or-flight reflex kicks in and adrenaline shoots through your body. Your heart rate speeds up. Your sense of time is distorted, making everything seem to move in slow motion, so you get out of the way and back on the corner almost before your mind processes what's just happened. Your reflexes are faster and you're much stronger than normal. You're also a little light-headed and your critical thinking processes suffer. Your digestive system shuts down, so if you've just eaten a meal, you're not getting the nutrients from it. Are you with me so far?"

Heads nodded.

"Okay. Normally the danger passes after a few moments; you catch your breath and start to come down from the adrenaline high. Tremendous amounts of energy have been burned up in those brief moments, and you feel suddenly weak. You crash."

All eyes were on her, waiting. "This reflex is designed to function in the body for a very brief period, usually seconds, minutes at most." She swallowed hard, looking down at the medical analyses again. "Daniel's body is sustaining this condition for _hours_."

Astonishment dawned on every face as that information registered. 

She clutched her pen in both hands until her knuckles turned white. "His body can't take this kind of abuse for an extended period. If this condition persists, his organs will slowly begin to fail; not immediately but over a span of weeks. He may already be addicted to the euphoric effects of the adrenaline on his brain, and unless we can get the underlying cause under control… in time, it _will_ kill him. The rapid heartbeat, the increased blood pressure, the overproduction of adrenaline… He could eventually die of heart attack, stroke or kidney failure."

"Doctor Fraiser, is there nothing you can do to at least slow down the progression of this… disease?" asked the general worriedly.

"I've received permission from Daniel to begin sedating him heavily at night," she answered wearily. "This is only a stop-gap measure for the short term, though. Continued use of that type of medication will cause other complications if used too long."

Hammond leaned forward, bracing himself against the table with his forearms. "And you have no idea what the source of this condition might be?"

Janet shook her head. "I've found no evidence of foreign substances in his system, nothing that I can see as a starting point. I am fairly certain, however, that there is a physical cause for this condition. The mind cannot engage a state of `fight-or-flight' and maintain it at these levels, for this length of time, and with this precise timing and regularity, without a corresponding physical cause."

Sam's eyes closed. "We just got him back, Janet. We can't lose him again!" She looked down at her note tablet for a moment before making eye contact, her blue eyes turning to steel. "What can we do?"

"We have to find out what's causing this anomaly," Janet answered simply. "My test results show nothing abnormal or alien in his system. I recommend we look back over every mission he's been on since his return from Vis Uban, maybe even go back to some of the planets you've explored since then and take a second look."

"All right, doctor," Hammond intoned. He nailed the colonel with a determined gaze. "I want every mission report gone over with a fine- toothed comb. When Doctor Jackson is awake and lucid, I want one of you interviewing him for any odd physical sensations he might have felt off world."

"I'll handle that, sir," Doctor Fraiser volunteered. "That way the rest of the team can review their reports without interruption and I can let him rest as much as possible."

"Done, then. Ladies and gentlemen, you have your assignments."

"Sir." Jack stared hard at the general.

"Yes, colonel?"

"Daniel seemed to think this might be something left over from being all glowy. If that's so, there may be nothing we can do here."

"Then perhaps we could return to Kheb and attempt to make contact with Oma Desala," Teal'c suggested. "Perhaps she could assist with removing this malady from DanielJackson."

"Only if she were the last good witch of the north in the galaxy!" Jack snarled, staring at the Jaffa. "I'd rather look under every rock on every planet we've touched since Vis Uban than try to get a straight answer out of those glowy folks on their sanctimonious fluffy white clouds." 

"Agreed, Colonel O'Neill." Hammond started writing in his notes. "However, I do think there may be some merit to Teal'c's suggestion. If we can't find any other answers, that will be our last recourse. Let's get Doctor Jackson some help. Dismissed, people."

Everyone started to rise from the table except for Jack and Janet, who nailed Jack with a stern gaze. He stared down at his tablet, brows furrowed in deep thought. 

Finally, he spoke. "Um, sir? Wait just a minute. I think maybe everyone ought to have a seat. You all need to know something else."

"What is it, colonel?" Hammond asked, the concern in his face exacerbated by the worry in Jack's. He resumed his seat, as did Teal'c and Carter.

"It's… about Daniel, sir." Jack leaned on his hand, his fingers covering his eyes as if he was suddenly exhausted.

"Do you know something, colonel?" Carter asked, her intuition prompted by his demeanor. "Something you haven't told us?"

Jack straightened up. He squirmed in his seat, his face flickering with the tortured emotions he felt: worry, guilt, fear, and finally, resignation. His shoulders slumped and he made eye contact with his teammates. "That unexplained bruising we talked about last night? That was from fighting. From Daniel fighting people. He was… ah… he was shot while wearing a Kevlar vest last night, saving a family from a stalker. I'm sure you heard about it on the news."

Sam's eyes widened. Her mouth fell open in a small `o' of surprise and then slowly closed.

Jack swallowed hard. His gaze went down to the table and, for a moment, his eyes closed. "Daniel Jackson is the Man in Black." His gaze shifted to the general and he waited.

Silence settled in the room, along with a pronounced chill of fear and shock. A hint of a smile lit Teal'c's face, and he nodded his approval. Then the smile faded and worry crept into his eyes. "So it is as I suspected. I planned to speak with DanielJackson in private today and have not had an opportunity."

Sam sat rock still, her expression vacant as she tried to take that fact in and process it.

General Hammond threw down his pen and looked daggers at his 2IC. "And just when in hell did you plan on telling me about this? Don't you realize the danger that casts on this program?" His eyebrows shot up his forehead and a vein bulged out as his complexion darkened. "Not to mention the fact that the President of the United States was just here and wouldn't _that_ have made a nice little addition to the festivities if we'd had the police knocking on our door, wanting to question the head of our academic department about his nighttime hobby as a local vigilante? _And_ not to mention the danger to Doctor Jackson personally."

"Yes, sir," Jack breathed helplessly, head down.

"How long have you known?" Hammond demanded.

"Only since I brought him in last night," Jack answered quietly. "I caught him after it was all over. When he tried to go back out again, I was waiting for him and brought him back to the base for his own protection. He was clearly not capable of stopping himself." He cleared his throat nervously. "He sees the crimes happening in his mind and feels forced to go out to stop them. Now, since he can't help… It's tearing him up. I -- I've stayed with him partly to keep him where he's supposed to be and partly to act as moral support. I was going to inform you at the first opportunity." He sighed. "I didn't think it was the sort of thing to be handled with a phone call, for obvious reasons, and Doctor Fraiser and I were trying to make sure we had all the facts before we brought it to you." He glanced guiltily, sadly at her, then back at the general. "And we've pretty much done that."

"It's a damn good thing you haven't known about this all along, or I'd be hauling you up before a review board, Colonel O'Neill," the general seethed. "I don't think I need to tell any of you that this information needs to stay within this room. No one else can know the identity of the Man in Black. It is now startlingly clear that Doctor Jackson is under the influence of something beyond the scope of our medical capabilities. If this is, indeed, a residual effect of his ascension, I'm not sure we can afford to keep him on Earth, for his own safety. If a solution can't be found for his condition I'll be reassigning him off world somewhere. With the smaller population and rarity of violent incidents at that site, that may well be the safest place for him until we can solve this problem."

"I think you may be right about that, sir," Jack agreed unhappily.

"Holy Hannah," breathed Sam in fearful wonder, her eyes still wide with shock. "Daniel's the ninja? I just... I can't wrap my mind around that concept."

"He is a great warrior, MajorCarter," Teal'c reminded her. "Since his return to us, he has applied himself to the art of combat with great passion. You have not witnessed him in training recently, or you would have seen this."

"Yeah," Jack rasped with a frown. "He killed me good during our last workout. I shoulda seen it then, but I just didn't figure... I thought Daniel was too smart to be going out at night trying to save the world here at home."

"That is in DanielJackson's nature," Teal'c observed sagely. "However, like the rest of you, I did not think he would do such things. I only began to suspect last night, when I saw him leaving the base. There was something about his pace that spoke of a certain… urgency. As if he were on a mission. Which, evidently, he was." He lifted his chin and stared down at the table. "If we cannot help him, GeneralHammond, I wish to be reassigned with him to ensure his continued safety."

"I'll take that under consideration, Teal'c," Hammond agreed.

Janet Fraiser saw the silent thanks in the colonel's eyes as he watched his Jaffa teammate. "I don't know what else I can try," she told the assembly, "but I'm not ready to give up yet. Maybe with the right mental discipline, Daniel may be able to get control of this ability himself."

"Let's get busy, people," Hammond ordered. He pinned the doctor with a frank gaze. "While you're interviewing him, doctor, perhaps you might see if Doctor Jackson will write up mission reports on his nighttime activities as well. Maybe there's something hidden in those incidents that could help us pinpoint what's driving him to do these cockamamie things in his free time."

"Yes, sir." 

This time everyone pushed back from the table and went their separate ways, with Janet heading straight for the isolation room where Daniel was being held. 

She checked her watch and saw with a sinking feeling that most of the night still lay ahead of them. She found him up and pacing the room, wobbly from the effects of the tranquilizer, but fully awake and agitated. 

With the aid of several orderlies, she had him put to bed and restrained, started an IV and injected a potent sedative into the tubing port, putting him under what amounted to a light anesthesia. When the medication took effect, she had the restraints removed and had a technician hook him up to an EKG. She wanted constant readings to monitor every change in his condition, looking for any patterns that might emerge. She ordered a nurse to be in constant attendance, so that Daniel would at no time be left alone in his room.

Janet was afraid for him. Not just for his deteriorating health but also for his sanity. They had to help him soon, or he would plunge headlong into psychosis and they might never be able to get him back.

~~**~~

"Unauthorized incoming wormhole!" the tech on duty in the gate control room announced over the PA.

General Hammond appeared a moment later, followed by Jack O'Neill. Both men had just left the morning briefing meeting, three days into the search for a cause of Daniel's illness, still with no progress in sight. "That's three times in the last week," the general mentioned aloud.

Jack heard the gate engage, followed by the resounding clang of something impacting against the closed iris. Moments later, the wormhole had always disengaged, but not this time. Tension filled the control room and the SFs on guard duty in the embarkation room below took cover behind equipment, weapons ready.

Slowly, a small clear bubble appeared on the trinium surface of the iris. It looked like a rising blister, growing larger and firmer until it popped completely away from the shield, floating like a six- inch wide soap bubble ten feet above the ramp.

"What is it?" asked Jack.

"I have no idea." Hammond stared at it. "But the fact that it's breached our security isn't a good thing."

The wormhole finally disengaged, silence filling the gate room below.

"Sir?" called one of the SFs. "It doesn't appear to be threatening us. Orders?"

"For now, just watch it," Hammond ordered. "If it moves from that spot, shoot it."

"It's a bubble, for cryin' out loud," Jack announced with a frown, one hand waving toward it. "It's empty. You can see right through it."

"And it passed through the iris as if it weren't there," Hammond reminded him. "That speaks of technology on the order of Tollan phase shifting capabilities, and it could be dangerous if whoever sent it isn't obliged to be friendly."

The bubble hovered a few moments longer and then started to move.

One of the soldiers shot at it, the bullet piercing its clear surface and passing harmlessly through it. The other soldiers fired as well, with no results. The bubble floated toward the glass panels of the control booth, and Hammond ordered the blast shields closed.

The bubble went right through them, hovering over the controls.

Jack reached out to touch it but it dodged away from contact and floated to a spot inches away from his face. "Uh... I think it likes me," he said slowly.

With each word he spoke, he saw the vibrations cause a slight shimmer on the bubble's iridescent surface. Suddenly it changed color and then began to float upward, disappearing through the ceiling.

Hammond was on the PA instantly, calling for all base personnel to be on the lookout for the thing. 

Jack stepped away to call for backup, then returned to his post in the control room, waiting for orders and listening to reports coming in as it was tracked through the building. Calls came in from all over, reporting the anomaly as it passed straight upward, floor to floor, until it hit the infirmary level. The bubble started moving laterally then, passing through walls until it came to rest in Daniel's isolation room.

Janet Fraiser picked up the phone and dialed the control booth to report. Jack listened with trepidation as she described the thing bobbing excitedly about her patient's head. Daniel was watching it with a mixture of shock and fascination from his bed and, as she looked on, the bubble changed color, glowing green and yellow.

After just a few moments, Fraiser reported that the bubble had disappeared again, sinking through the floor only to reappear moments later in the control booth. 

As Jack and Hammond discussed containment measures, they heard the stargate begin to dial up. The tech at the control station rolled his chair backward, hands in the air.

"It wasn't me!" Sergeant Davis declared. "I didn't touch the keyboard. That thing must have some way of dialing directly."

"Or else it's interfacing with our control system," Hammond shot back. He turned to his right. "Get me Major Carter."

Jack opened his mouth to tell the general that he'd already summoned the major from her lab, but she came up the spiral stairs and announced herself just as the final chevron lit up and engaged.

"Here, sir." She stared at the bubble above the control panel and watched it pass intact through the glass and into the gate room below. Once the wormhole was established, the bubble slipped through the closed iris again and was gone.

Hammond frowned. "I'd say our security has just been seriously breached," he growled to the colonel and major at his side. "If I were guessing, I'd say that bubble was some kind of probe. We've been scanned and that thing is now returning to the people who sent it with God knows what information."

"I think it was just interested in Daniel," Jack pointed out. "It seemed to go straight to his room, gave him the once over, and then came right back to the gate. I think it found what it wanted. Maybe we should check the address to see if it went to a world on the Goa'uld list or the Ancients'. Maybe we'll find some folks there who can help us figure out what's wrong with Daniel."

The general turned to his chief astrophysicist. "Major, that object seemed to have the power to dial the gate up by itself. I want to know if it interfaced with our technology and, if so, exactly how and what it did."

"I'll give everything a thorough going over, sir." She sat down at a nearby terminal and pulled up the gate address database and started the search on the last symbols dialed, then opened up the diagnostic program and started a background sweep of the entire gate control system.

Twenty minutes later, a match had been found far down on the Ancients' database list. Two hours after that SG-1, minus a heavily sedated Daniel Jackson, was seated in the briefing room with the general.

"I have a MALP standing by to go to the address that bubble dialed," Hammond informed them. "Major Carter, do you have any information on the systems check?"

"First run through of the diagnostics showed that everything is functioning normally," she told him. "I ran a tracking program designed to indicate the origin of the address input into the system and was surprised to discover that the signal came from the gate, going backward into the terminal." She paused, glancing around the table. "That could be a pretty neat gadget to have. For instance, if you step off-world and only notice when you get there that the DHD's been irreparably damaged, you just whip out your little soap bubble and have it dial home for you. We've had that happen a couple of times already."

"What kind of technology are we talking about, major?" Hammond probed with interest.

"Only thing I know for sure is, it's way more advanced than ours, sir," she answered. 

"Let's hope that's a good thing. Did the bubble probe affect any of our equipment or programming?"

"No, sir, not to my knowledge. It would take me a few days to run tests on everything it touched."

"You may not have time to do that yourself, Major Carter. Assign the tests you want performed to a team of our scientists here. Meanwhile, once we see what's on the other side of that gate address, I want SG- 1 ready for an exploratory mission." 

Hammond eyed Jack. "I'm assigning Doctor Lee as a temporary replacement for Doctor Jackson, colonel. We cannot take the risk of letting him go off world at the present time, and you may need a linguist or cultural expert. I've sent for him and he'll be joining us in the control room for the initial probe of this unknown world."

Jack's left eyebrow arched but he made no protest about the assignment. Daniel was the only academic he wanted on his team, except that wasn't an option this time. Lee was out of shape and whiney, but he was older than Jack so he'd cut the man a little slack. If they didn't need an academic, however, Jack could always ask to just have a team of three for the meet and greet.

"If there's nothing else, let's go down to the control room and see what the MALP can tell us about PX9-2YX."

Everyone rose and followed the general down the spiral stairs. The appropriate address was dialed in, engaged and, when the wormhole was established, the MALP went through. 

Once it had emerged on the other side, it sent back images of a large, spacious, domed room with a handful of humanoid people standing around, talking excitedly as they examined the machine and looked back at their stargate as if expecting more to come through its watery surface.

Hammond spoke to them through the MALP radio relay. "Greetings from the planet Earth. We mean you no harm and are only reciprocating following your probe of our base. We are curious about the device you sent through and would like to discuss its findings at your earliest convenience."

The people gathered around the MALP listened intently, then started jabbering again when the machine fell silent.

The general turned to Doctor Bill Lee. "Do you recognize that language, doctor?"

Lee frowned in concentration. "Sounded like an archaic French, maybe Middle French, which was spoken in the early twelfth century, though some of the pronunciations are very different, no doubt from the separate evolution of the language."

"Can you manage it well enough to act as translator?" Hammond eyed the activities of the curious, smiling aliens.

"Yes, sir, I think so."

Hammond tore his eyes away from the viewer. "Let's get to it, then. SG-1, you have a go."

Doctor Lee translated what the general had said and the surprised confusion of the aliens became delight. One of them spoke to the MALP, offering a formal welcome of the unseen aliens to the world called Rouen. 

Minutes later, the team was hurrying to their locker room to suit up and returning to the gate room to wait for Doctor Lee. When he arrived, Jack swept him with a disapproving glance and headed up the ramp, hoping Lee didn't screw up and get them all killed. 

A dozen people in long robes met them on the other side. Doctor Lee performed the introductions, pointing out Jean de la Croix, Ministry of Science; the city chancellor; a social coordinator and Esme Bien, Watch Commander. 

The science guy wasn't the typical nerdy type. He looked more like a lumberjack, big with beefy hands, dark hair and piercing gray eyes. The chancellor was an older man with an air of authority, like Hammond, only with thick, wavy gray hair. Jack couldn't figure why a social coordinator would have such a prominent post, but this guy rivaled Baal for being a fashion plate. His velvets and silks looked expensive, and he wore a lot of jewelry. Quite the fancy pants, in Jack's opinion. 

The one Jack kept an eye on most, though, was the lone woman in the group. She was about Carter's height and build but with long ash blonde hair and green eyes. Her face had an elfin quality to it, cute rather than pretty, but it was the way she looked at them that got Jack's attention. She was threat assessing, picking him out as the one to watch, virtually ignoring Doctor Lee. `Watch Commander' sounded like something police-oriented, so he figured she would naturally be the most suspicious of the visitors from Earth. He could admire that in a woman, especially if she were good at her job like Carter.

Jack dragged his attention from the woman and saw that de la Croix was holding the apparently inactivated bubble in his hand. Jack directed Doctor Lee to ask about it.

The linguist listened intently to de la Croix's answer, his face expressing surprise and denial, then hurriedly arguing with the minister, shaking his head and waving his hands to support his verbal declaration.

"What're they saying, doc?" Jack demanded, growing more uneasy by the moment.

"They said we stole something that belongs to them," Lee returned anxiously. "They don't seem angry about it, but they're insistent that we return it to them."

"What did we supposedly steal?"

"I'm not really clear on that, but I told them we've never been to this planet before, so we couldn't have stolen anything." Lee shrugged. "They're being pretty nice about it. They've invited us to dinner."

"Just keep your eyes and ears open," Jack suggested, looking from Lee to the rest of his team. "If they can penetrate our shields, we don't wanna make these folks mad at us. Let's see if we can get this resolved peacefully, but let's not be too trusting right out of the gate." He paused, realizing what he'd just said. "No pun intended, there, kids."

"So do we go with them?" Lee asked, gesturing toward the few who had already stepped away to lead them off.

Jack's eyes surveyed the big domed room with its arching white ceiling and beautifully carved walls. He didn't see anything that seemed to be a security threat, and the people themselves appeared unarmed, even Madame Bien. "Until they give us reason to back off, we'll see what they've got to say. Let's report in to Hammond first and see when he wants us to check back."

Having been given clearance by the general to continue their dialogue, the four were escorted out of the gate room and down a high- ceilinged, gothic-arched hallway into a grand foyer. All four of the most important city ministers stepped onto a circle in the middle of the floor, inviting the four team members from Earth to join them. The Watch Commander spoke to Doctor Lee in warning, her hand poised over a wide silver bracelet on her wrist.

Bill Lee turned to Jack. "We're apparently going to be transported elsewhere to continue the talks. Is that okay?"

"Transported how?"

"Judging by the fact that Madame Bien is waiting for our agreement to press the button on her wrist," Doctor Lee surmised, "possibly something like Goa'uld transport rings. A device of some kind that will take us some distance away." He shrugged. "I'm not clear on all the details. They use a lot of words that must describe modern technological devices for which the early French didn't have terms."

"Just as long as we get advance warning and nobody makes any sudden moves," agreed Jack. "Make sure they know that. And I wanna know where we'll be in relation to the stargate so we'll know how to get home… just in case." Jack looked at the Frenchwoman and gave her a nod.

She touched the bracelet on her wrist and light flared around them.

In silence they were transported instantaneously to a spacious, ornately decorated room dominated by a long table. At the far end of the room was a balcony open to the outside and Jack wandered over to it while Doctor Lee translated what Jack had said. 

He checked out their location and looked out to orient himself to the city. The room was apparently in a tall tower overlooking the metropolitan area, most of which was carved from white or gray stone adorned with statues. It was a beautiful place, spreading out as far as the eye could see, tall spires and towers piercing the sky all around them. One building a few blocks down had a domed roof of a size to match the one housing the stargate. 

Doctor Lee came up to him with Madame Bien to confirm that it was, indeed, the building from which they had come. Jack traced a mental path through the maze of streets below, committing it to memory in case they needed to make a hasty exit.

The city reminded him of pictures he'd seen of Paris, the buildings all very old looking.

"Nice place you got here," Jack commented, remaining standing while the rest of the team took seats across from the city officials. He gave the room another covert sweep, looking for all access points and finally taking a seat where he had a commanding view of the entrances. His hand never left his P-90, keeping it close in his lap, his chair pushed far enough back that – if the need arose – he could stand and fire without impediment.

Jack noticed that Teal'c had chosen a chair close to his, facing the door, backing him up as always. He leaned close as everyone smiled at each other, looking for a place to begin. "What do you think about these folks, T?"

"They appear to have many technological advances," the Jaffa rumbled back. "Their Watch Commander is a well-trained warrior and recognizes us as the same. We must proceed carefully if we are to earn their trust."

"That's what I think, too."

Jack felt instinctively that there was no threat here, but that bubble thing still made him nervous. Anyone with that kind of technology was suspect. Even the Tollans, with their superior science, hadn't been completely trustworthy in his book. They were too damned innocent to be trusted, and their naïveté had gotten them wiped out. He hoped these people were less trusting. With Madame Bien as an example, he thought they might be a little savvier in that regard.

The science guy started talking. Jack listened politely, watching Doctor Lee's face for clues to the conversation.

"They said they tried to contact us before but their standard probes never reported back," Lee explained. "That must have been the unexpected gate activations we've experienced over the last week or so."

Jack grimaced. "They didn't send any _people_ through, did they?"

Lee asked, relieved at the answer. "No. Just probes, like we do. That bubble you described in the briefing was the last, designed to penetrate shields and seek out this treasure of theirs. I'll see if I can find out more about it."

The linguist was adamant in his refusal of the charge of theft; the aliens explained a little more and understanding dawned on Lee's face at last.

"They're saying the theft didn't occur here but on another world," he told Jack. "We may have picked up an artifact or something while we were exploring. I'm sure, whatever it is, we can give it back. They seem to place a lot of importance on it."

Jean de la Croix spoke, a ring of authority to his voice and, when he finished, the center of the table slid back to reveal what appeared to be a glass panel. Beneath the surface of the glass, somewhere in the depths of the table, a light came on, and a holographic image appeared above the table, images forming in transparent light.

Jack recognized the scene instantly. PX7-669 had yielded nothing, but the arena they'd visited had been unique. It had reminded him of some of the smaller Roman stadiums, with wide stone benches weathered by rain and wind over centuries. One end of the arena had had a long passageway shadowed by tall gothic-arched columns leading to a small grotto. The back wall of the grotto had been covered with writing like nothing Daniel had ever seen, something he had declared was totally unlike anything from Earth's past.

They had puttered around the ruins for the better part of a day, then sent the UAV in sweeps around the area, finding nothing else of interest. They had taken nothing from the planet save some photographs of the structures and writing. 

He relayed his memories to Doctor Lee. The older man frowned, and then relayed the message to their alien hosts.

Monsieur de la Croix shook his head and pointed to the hologram with his huge hand.

As they watched, they saw the arena breached at its entrance by four figures that Jack recognized as SG-1. The team prowled through the ruins, then the image skipped ahead to the moment when they had gone down the arched passageway into the grotto. He remembered the dialogue from that particular moment and fought off the embarrassment, hoping nobody else recalled it. At least the aliens hadn't recorded any sound to go with the pictures.

He _hoped_ they hadn't, anyway.

The four figures in the image stood around while Daniel took pictures and speculated, mouth moving but no audio recording played back. In time, Jack watched the team begin to leave and looked to de la Croix for more information. The alien was gesticulating at the recording as if to prove his point.

"I didn't see anything," Doctor Lee assured Jack. "I told them so, but M'sieur de la Croix seems certain your team picked something up in that grotto. He calls it…" Lee grinned and shook his head. "I'm sure I must be missing something in the translation here, the evolution of the language having gone in unexpected directions to account for alien phenomena, but—"

"Cut to the chase, doc," Jack demanded impatiently.

"He's calling it ` _illuminatus_ '. "

"Which means?"

"Considering the Latin source, it could be `the lights' or `the enlightened ones.' Whatever it is, they hold it in very high regard." Doctor Lee turned back to the science minister. "He says he'll play it back with enhancements to show us what he means."

All eyes again turned to the hologram. The figures reset to the moment when the four explorers entered the grotto. Their human- looking exteriors vanished, becoming iridescent bipedal shapes, glowing with color. Carter, Teal'c and Jack's own shapes pulsed with gray spots, making them look dim and dull, while Daniel glowed with brilliant white light.

Jack's stomach clenched. That was what he had looked like as an Ancient, little filaments of light waving slowly about his human shape, like feelers of some kind. Jack swallowed hard, wondering just what kind of enhancement this was, suddenly fearing that Daniel might not have descended _completely_.

Doctor Lee turned to him, translating softly as de la Croix spoke.

"They are saying that these three," Lee began, indicating Carter, O'Neill and Teal'c, "are tainted by possession of an alien mind, though you are now free of the Goa'uld."

That raised eyebrows all over the Tau'ri faces. "So they know the Goa'uld," Jack observed, "and they're right. Daniel's the only one of us who hasn't been snaked."

"That must be _some_ recording device," Carter breathed appreciatively, eyes wide and gleaming with interest. "I'd love to get a look at this technology, sir. We could use this kind of scanner to tell us if someone's a host or not."

"In time," Jack waved at her, putting her off. "Let's see what they're talkin' about here, first." He turned back to the projection, listening as Lee's translation resumed.

"Daniel is clearly the only choice here, the pure vessel which the… uh… _illuminatus_ will choose." Lee cleared his throat. "I'm not real clear on this, colonel. I'll ask—"

Just then the walls of the grotto in the recording seemed to come alive with sparkles. A cloud of brilliant points of light like a swarm of fireflies flew about the four human shapes, all making their way quickly to Daniel as he expounded on the alien writing, his voice now audible. With each intake of breath, the lights entered his body until they became part of his glowing shape.

Daniel stopped talking for a moment. Jack remembered the puzzled look on the man's face at that instant and heard the recording play back Daniel's question for everyone to hear. He was thankful that Lee wasn't translating the conversation for the aliens.

_  
_

"Does anybody else smell that?"

Jack had glanced around himself guiltily. "It wasn't me," he had said flatly.

Daniel had rolled his eyes. "No, really. It smelled like roses."

That had been too good a punch-line setup to resist. Jack had grinned at his friend. "Okay, maybe it was me."

Daniel had seemed insistent, aware of something, but uncertain what it was. "Jack, look around. Do you see any roses? Any flowers of any kind? Am I sneezing?"

"Okay, so it wasn't flowers and it wasn't me. So… what?"

"So… I have no idea... but I smelled something. I'm sure of it."

Eyes glued to the holographic images they were seeing, Jack's hands tightened around the P-90. He saw the glowing things in Daniel's body, wondering just what the hell they were and how to get rid of them. He thought about the timing just as Carter spoke up.

"Sir, that was just a few days before the first reported sighting of the Man in Black," she said, her face filled with worry.

Looking at Doctor Lee, Jack spoke, his voice low and intense. "So ask them how to get the damn things out of Daniel. Tell them they're killing him."

The linguist nodded and turned back to de la Croix. They talked for a few minutes, and the woman across from Jack jumped into the conversation, talking animatedly. She kept gesturing toward the window, so Jack got up to look out of it.

He took notice of the tall spires all over the city, the decorative sculptures on every face. Statues perched at prominent places overlooking doorways, most of them ugly and misshapen creatures carved of the same dark gray stone. He thought about the Hunchback of Notre Dame and all the gargoyles decorating that cathedral, but there were no bells or bell towers anywhere in the skyline, just the gothic- style architecture and the big, ugly statues on the rooftops.

"What's that word she keeps sayin'?" he asked, returning to the table. "That _gaidune_ thing."

Bill Lee turned to make eye contact. "Your pronunciation is atrocious, colonel. It's a corruption of the Old French—"

Jack held up a hand impatiently. "Spare me the lecture. Just give me English, doc!"

"`Guardian,' is what Madame Bien is saying." Doctor Lee rubbed his forehead. "Best I can make out, they have a class of citizens they call the Guardians, and this _illuminatus_ stuff belongs solely to them. They sometimes have competitions to determine who gets it, and apparently SG-1 wandered in just before time for their games. Daniel accidentally claimed the prize."

Jack sighed. "Leave it to Daniel. He doesn't even have to _touch_ stuff now to get in trouble. It just comes to him." He sighed heavily. "So what do we have to do to get rid of it?"

"I'm working on that part." Bill glanced at Carter and Teal'c. "These people are being very nice, considering they think we've breached some sort of sacred trust here. I think we should learn more about their society, while we're at it."

" _First_ we find out how to fix Daniel. After all, it's the only reason we came here." Jack returned the window, studying the building just across the street from the one where they stood. It looked more formal than the others around it and was surrounded by a grassy park filled with winding paths lined with flowers. It was a beautiful building that reminded Jack of an old European church but without the crosses. Crouched all over it were countless statues, their stone wings spread to catch the sun and cast big patches of shade beneath them on the parapets and balconies.

"Working on that, sir," Doctor Lee assured him, and turned back to the alien council to discuss how to accomplish that goal.

~~**~~

After eight hours of waiting around while Doctor Lee spoke with the aliens and then translated for him, Jack finally had enough information to return to Earth and report. 

General Hammond had then given the go-ahead for a return trip, and now he had come to the infirmary to tell Doctor Fraiser what he'd learned. 

Jack stood in the observation booth, looking down on the isolation room where Daniel lay sedated, shaking off the drugs and heading toward wakefulness. His eyes were glazed, not seeing anything in the room, only what was going on in his tortured mind. He struggled to rise and started to pace, his wobbly movements growing steadier as Jack watched. 

Daniel's chest started to heave. His hands flexed into a claw-like formation that tightened into fists and opened again. Then he began to race around the room, leaping up on his bed and dropping down on the far side, shadow-boxing with unseen opponents. 

He looked crazy.

That tore Jack up, because he knew Daniel wasn't, although it sure looked like he was headed that way.

Doctor Fraiser met him in the booth. "You have something to report, colonel?" she asked quietly, a note of hope in her voice and gleaming in her gentle brown eyes.

"Yeah. We know what's causing…" He waved a hand at the slanted glass panels looking down on the room. "…that. The natives of PXniner-2YX call it _illuminatus_. We think you should come back with us when we take Daniel there and talk to some of their science people."

"Do they know what this _illuminatus_ is?" Fraiser looked down into the room. 

Jack nodded. "Daniel breathed it in on PX7-669. We didn't see it when it happened. Stuff's invisible till they enhance it." Jack didn't describe the recorded vision of the team as colored lights, but he could still see it quite vividly in his mind's eye. "Doc Lee's tryin' to find out more about it. I gotta hand it to him, he's done a pretty good job."

"Do they have a way of removing it from Daniel's system? I couldn't find any evidence of alien substances in his body. I'm interested to learn more about this anomaly."

Clearing his throat, Jack felt his stomach tighten. "They said the stuff can be coaxed into leaving him." He swallowed hard. "It's apparently a colony of intelligent beings. Really tiny beings. At least that's what Doctor Lee thinks they are. He's still a little unclear about all that. Language barrier thing." Under his breath, he added, "Daniel could figure it out, though, if he were..." He pursed his lips and shook his head.

Fraiser turned those big brown eyes back up to him, a tiny smile hitching up one corner of her mouth. "That should be familiar territory for you, sir. Remember that orb and the bacteria it carried that colonized you and half the base?"

He nodded. "Daniel hasn't run any fever or anything. There weren't any outward signs…" He paused. "Well, there were, but we weren't associating that with alien life forms. I guess we should take sharper notice of unusual behaviors until we know for sure it's just somebody going through a mid-life crisis or find evidence that they've been… compromised."

"We can't afford to take _anything_ for granted at the SGC," Fraiser echoed. "This didn't affect Daniel overnight. His behavior changed so gradually that no one really noticed it until it had far too strong a hold on him." She turned and laid one small hand on his arm. "We'll find a way to help him, colonel. I promise." She patted him and left to inform General Hammond of the news.

Jack watched over Daniel, clenching his teeth, his stomach twisting up in knots, until Teal'c came to the booth to announce that everyone was ready for departure. 

All that remained was preparing Daniel to go off-world. Carter had been assigned the duty of packing up suitable clothing for Daniel to change into when he was himself again. The three team members gathered outside the door with Doctor Fraiser, now suited up in BDUs, bearing a syringe filled with a powerful sedative. Four orderlies stood with her, ready to help take their friend down.

She gave the nod and Jack opened the door, letting the orderlies in first. Teal'c took point for the team, positioning himself just inside the door. Jack went in second, making eye contact with the wild man. Daniel was standing on the far side of the room and leaped up onto the bed, settling down in a brooding squat, staring at Jack in silence, alpha to alpha. Everyone else he ignored.

Jack heard Fraiser and Carter come in behind him and close the door.

"Come down, Daniel," Jack ordered gently. "There's something alien inside you, and we're gonna take you someplace where some nice folks can get it out."

The dangerous gleam in those blue eyes intensified. He lowered his head, staring at Jack from beneath his thick brows. He looked like a predatory beast, issuing a silent challenge.

"You don't wanna fight me," Jack murmured to his friend, his voice soft and low, full of reassurance and kindness. He took several slow, careful steps toward the bed, angling slightly to the side rather than confronting Daniel head-on. His whole body tensed up, knowing Daniel was going to attack before he moved a muscle. "We're gonna help you, Daniel. You have to just sit there and be still and quiet. Okay? You gonna cooperate, buddy?"

The orderlies slowly came closer, behind and beside Daniel, closing the gap, ready to restrain him.

Jack didn't want them to do this, didn't want to take the chance of his friend being hurt, but it had to be done. Daniel had to be subdued and sedated before they could risk taking him through the stargate.

He kept talking, maintaining eye contact with his friend while the orderlies sneaked up on him.

Just before they closed in Daniel leaped off the bed, knocking one of the men flat on his back on the concrete floor. Daniel's feet landed on his chest, pushing the air out of him, using his body as a springboard for a jump toward the door. Jack sidestepped, positioning himself between Daniel and the door while the orderlies swooped down on him, pinning him to the concrete floor.

Daniel hissed in frustration and rage as Fraiser stuck him with the syringe, emptying its contents into him. She stepped back quickly, leaving the orderlies to keep Daniel secured until the medication took effect. After a few minutes he slumped to the floor, boneless and unconscious.

"Keep your hands on him until he's secured to that gurney," Janet warned them. She bent down to see about the one who had been flattened by the archaeologist, penlight in hand, while the other three men strapped Daniel down in the restraints. "How're you feeling, airman?"

"Dented," the orderly shot back, not attempting to move.

"You took a nice knock to the head. How many fingers?"

"Three." He got carefully to his feet, rubbing at the back of his head. 

Doctor Fraiser gave orders for him to report to Doctor Warner for an exam while she finished prepping Daniel for the trip and sent the young man out of the isolation room.

While she examined her patient, Jack thought about Daniel's break for freedom. He wondered if it were the _illuminatus_ controlling him or simply that Daniel had developed into more of an athlete lately. He also wondered why Daniel hadn't been talking. As far as Jack could tell, Daniel hadn't said a word, hadn't screamed or howled or made a sound except for that weird hissing since Jack had returned to collect his teammate.

There was no way to tell for sure while he was infected with that damned organism.

"Let's get Daniel to the aliens who want to take those things out of him," he growled when Doctor Fraiser nodded that she was ready to go. He resettled his black baseball cap on his head and pushed the foot of the narrow gurney while Teal'c pulled on the head of it, guiding it toward the `gate room. Janet and Carter walked alongside.

Checking his watch as they emerged on the other side of the wormhole, Jack saw that nearly ten hours had passed since first contact with the citizens of Rouen. 

The long gurney was too big to fit onto their transporter pad, so this time SG-1 and Doctor Fraiser were led out of a building downtown and escorted on foot to the big gray building Jack had admired from the balcony of the meeting hall. As they walked, Jack saw that the sun was low in the sky on that world but still daylight. He hoped the sudden change in circadian rhythm would help Daniel, or at least not make things worse.

Carter and Janet pushed the gurney along while Jack and Teal'c walked beside it. Jack stole a glance at his friend's face and saw that Daniel's eyes were open. That sent a shiver of alarm through Jack, because the man should have been unconscious for several hours. "Doc," he called softly, nodding toward Daniel to draw her attention there. Janet and Sam stopped walking, and they all came to a standstill.

"Daniel, how are you feeling?" Janet asked solicitously, stroking his hair and the side of his face to surreptitiously check his temperature and offer a little comfort. She smiled at him.

Daniel's eyes widened. He looked lucid and surprised as hell about something. He started struggling against his restraints, trying to get up.

"Just be still, Daniel," Janet cautioned gently. "We can't let you up yet. Do you know where you are?"

He blinked at her, focusing on her face but remained eerily silent.

Jack reached over as they resumed walking beside the bed and touched the doctor on the shoulder to get her to look at him. "Has he said anything lately? Talked at all?"

She frowned. "Come to think of it, no. He hasn't said a word since this morning." She turned back to her patient. "Daniel, can you talk to me? I need you to say something. Try it. Say my name."

Daniel relaxed against the pillow, his expression shifting to one almost of tranquility. He smiled a little but made no effort to try to speak. Then he looked upward, wonder gleaming in his eyes as they came to the front entrance of the grey building with the tall spires. He smiled and closed his eyes.

"Looks like he's happy to be here anyway," Jack observed. He patted Daniel's shoulder and slipped his hand back into its familiar spot cradling his P-90 as they entered the building.

~~**~~

_He is here,_ announced the eldest Guardian, that thought echoing through all the others. None of them moved except one or two, changing the angle of their heads to view the procession below.

_Strong,_ thought another.

_Wise,_ came another still. _And so young._

_I feel pretty old,_ said Daniel.

A shiver ran through them all at once, followed by a startled rise in messages darting from one mind to another.

_He hears us! He speaks to us! How can this be? He has not been connected!_

The eldest shifted on his perch, catching a little more of the sun's fading rays. _This one,_ the old one announced with a trace of joy, _has the soul of a Guardian. We must welcome him in the old way when it is time._

A ripple of wonder passed through the community, every head turning now to watch the caravan far below as they entered the Watchtower. The Guardians listened and learned the ancient greeting from those who still remembered it, all but lost in the passage of time. 

As the sun slipped behind the mountains surrounding the city and the afterglow faded into full darkness, the Guardians stirred from their perches atop the buildings all over the city, rising into the sky on silent wings, waiting for the Visitor to join them.

The Rouenese were accustomed to this nightly flight, and none of them ever looked up to see them as they rose into the air.

~~**~~

Doctor Lee and Esme Bien met them in the lofty foyer of the Watchtower. She eyed Daniel suspiciously. "Is this the one?" she asked in heavily accented English.

"You speak our language?" Carter asked, startled.

"I have learned it," answered Esme with a slight smile. "Your Doctor Lee has provided us with a translation of many of your words and I have had the information…" She frowned and touched her temple with one finger, searching for the proper words to explain. Finally she shrugged. "I have learned it."

Doctor Lee smiled and shook his head in wonder. "I recorded a translation for them, and she had it downloaded into her mind," he reported. "Amazing technology, Major Carter. These people will blow you away with what they can do. And wait till you hear what the _illuminatus_ are."

"Invisible fireflies?" Jack asked, spooked by the alien woman's new skill. He wasn't sure he wanted her understanding what they were saying… but then, he had ways of communicating with his people that she wouldn't get. In a pinch, hand signals would do.

Esme clasped her hands behind her back and lifted her chin. "We have made arrangements for a more pleasant welcome, which awaits you in the tower upstairs." Her gaze dropped down to Daniel again. "Is this the one who stole the _illuminatus_?"

"He didn't steal it," Jack shot back. "It went into him. He didn't ask for it to go there."

With a slight inclination of her head, she acquiesced. "You are correct, Colonel O'Neill. He did not." She bent over Daniel and made eye contact. The necklace at her throat dangled in the air between them and Daniel's eyes were drawn to it.

Jack saw Daniel's right hand jerk against the restraint, as if he meant to catch hold of the necklace.

She saw the movement and caught the silver fob dangling from it, holding it up in front of Daniel's eyes. "You wanted to see this?" she asked him gently.

Daniel nodded. He squinted, trying to see it clearly without the aid of his glasses. Noticing his difficulty, Janet pulled them from the breast pocket of her BDU jacket and slipped them on him. He studied the symbol silently until his face relaxed and then Esme moved away.

"What is that?" asked Jack. He nodded toward the necklace she settled against her chest as she straightened up.

"It is the mark of my station," she told him proudly, offering no explanation. Gesturing toward Daniel with her hand, she asked, "Why do you have him bound? He will do no harm to us."

"We don't want him to hurt _himself_ ," Janet clarified. "Daniel has been… this _illuminatus_ is hurting him. If we don't extract it from him soon, it'll kill him."

"Of course," said Esme coolly. "It was not meant for mere human bodies. We are too weak to carry it." She started off toward the interior of the building. "Please come with me."

Jack frowned, bringing up the rear and signaling Teal'c to take point. _If the illuminatus organisms weren't meant for humans, then who was it meant for, and what were they?_ Jack wondered.

Bill turned to make eye contact with him as they walked. "I found out what the Guardians are and this you're not going to believe this, colonel. The _illuminatus_ is…" His bushy gray brows pinched together. "I'm not sure exactly how to describe it, but I've seen a recording of their origin. When the Guardians die, their bodies fragment into bright particles of energy."

"So the _illuminatus_ actually _are_ the Guardians," Sam summed up. "Sort of like… ascended, maybe? Still Guardians but on a different plane of existence?"

Lee nodded. "Apparently it's invisible to the naked eye. Madame Bien has promised to explain further. I haven't had time to research the phenomenon as much as I'd like, since I was mostly working on the translation to help us communicate."

Jack gave him a brusque nod. "Good job, Bill. I'm glad you're with us on this."

Lee smiled at him, grateful for the acknowledgement from the hard- nosed colonel.

The group came to a wide stone staircase. The Watch Commander had gone a dozen steps before she remembered that the gurney was on wheels. "You may release your prisoner," she told them, pausing on the steps to look down on them. "No harm will come to him here, and he will not be allowed to harm others. He will be safe. You have my word."

Janet looked at Jack, who considered Esme's assurance. These folks knew what _illuminatus_ was and what it did, so she must be right. He had no reason not to trust them, but still he kept himself on alert just in case all was not as it seemed with the Rouenese. He gave the nod, and Fraiser and Carter began to unfasten the straps. They helped Daniel up and onto his feet, wrapped a blanket around his shoulders and took his elbows as he mounted the stairs with a wobbly gait.

Esme turned and continued up the stairs, leading them up several flights, down corridors and into the tower at the front of the building that Jack had admired from across the street. She ushered them into a small room where a table and chairs had been set up. On a sideboard were stacks of plates, silverware and glasses. Sharing the space were platters of sliced meats, cheeses, pastries, vegetables, fruit, and pitchers of water and juice.

"Come, eat, and we will talk," Esme invited them, standing beside the sideboard to pour their drinks. "I hope our food will be acceptable to you."

"All we wanna know is how to get the bugs out of Daniel," Jack told her, his eyes following his younger teammate as Daniel strolled about the room. As he watched, Daniel stopped and looked down at the food, sniffed, and wandered away.

"This is simple," the Watch Commander returned. "The _illuminatus_ will leave of their own accord, when a stronger champion is presented."

"Which is?" Jack prompted.

"One of the Guardians, colonel." She nodded toward the balcony looking out at city hall.

"What are they and where do we find one?" Jack's hand hadn't stopped caressing his P-90. He knew that, with Daniel, things were never as easy as they were supposed to be. He nervously watched the archaeologist heading for the balcony.

Daniel dropped his blanket. The look on his face was beatific, just like that photo they had taken of him for his formal portrait. He ambled slowly closer to the railing, and Jack dashed after him, terrified he was going to fall off. Or jump.

"Let him go, colonel," Esme commanded, the ring of authority in her voice.

"Like hell I will!" he snapped, firmly gripping Daniel's upper arm and trying to haul him back inside the room. "I'm not letting him fall off. We're at least twelve stories up, for cryin' out loud."

Jack felt a hand on his shoulder and glanced down to see Janet calling him off with a touch. There was a look of wonder in her eyes as she gazed beyond him, up at the sky. Jack noticed that the rest of the team had gathered out on the balcony with them, and all of them were looking up, stunned by what they saw.

He turned, glancing up over his shoulder at the night sky. A _whoosh_ sounded nearby, followed moments later by another and another, all at precisely timed intervals. At first he didn't see anything. Glancing at Daniel's upturned face and the bright smile there, Jack let go of him, and Daniel raised his arms in a gesture of welcome.

Something was out there, doing close fly-bys. Jack put his back to the lighted room, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness. In a moment or two, he could see the shapes, eight feet long with wingspans of more than twice that, swooping downward between the Watchtower and the city hall, then rising back up again and moving off toward other parts of the city. Jack squinted, trying to see some detail in the dark shapes, but he could hardly believe what his eyes were telling him.

The things were vaguely human-shaped, with a head, two arms held at their sides, and two legs, but that was where the resemblance ended. They had wings, for one thing, and most of them seemed to have long, snaky tails. Some had horns on their misshapen heads. The creatures were dark and rough-looking, like stone, black and solid shapes against the night and the gray building across the street.

_Gargoyles_ , he told himself, remembering the statues he had seen earlier decorating every rooftop in sight in the city. They were living stone statues, flying through the air in precise formations, just missing each other by fractions. Their aerial technique was awe inspiring and their appearance terrifying. Never in a million years had he expected to see anything like these creatures, alive and swooping gracefully through the air with the precision of falcons and the speed of swifts.

Jack looked at Daniel. _Gargoyles_ were doing _fly-bys_ for _Daniel_ , showing off for him. Jack felt suddenly ill and light- headed. He cradled the P-90 with both hands, thumb pushing off the safety, then sliding his right index finger into the trigger guard, just in case one of them made a move toward the balcony.

"They are welcoming him," Esme murmured in awe, sidling up on the other side of the group, eyes on the sky. "I have never seen this display, but we have legends of it from ancient days. It is a great honor they give to your friend." 

She reached out after the last creature had flown off and touched Daniel's shoulder. "Can you speak with them, Daniel?"

He looked at her but made no attempt to answer. A moment later he turned back to the night, his smile fading. His eyes grew glassy, and Jack recognized that look.

"It's happening, doc," he reported. "Do something."

"What is happening?" asked Esme.

"Your _illuminatus_ makes him crazy," Jack snapped. "It's killing him. I suggest you call one of those things in here and make it get the bugs out of him right now."

Esme's expression closed. She lifted her chin. "It is not that simple, colonel."

"With Daniel it never is. So what do we have to do?"

The Watch Commander's green eyes shifted to Daniel as Janet pulled him gently off the balcony and guided him to a chair, wrapping him up in the blanket again. "You do nothing. Daniel must challenge a young Guardian, one who is not already a bearer of the _illuminatus_ , and lose."

A snappy comeback died on Jack's lips. He thought about the gargoyle statues at home, how ugly and menacing they looked, since he hadn't gotten a really detailed look at the live ones outside. On Earth, some were small and harmless-looking but the things he had seen out there silhouetted against the night sky looked huge. Bigger than Teal'c. He figured one of those things could easily make mincemeat out of Daniel, and that scared him.

"I don't want Daniel hurt," he said adamantly.

"That cannot be guaranteed."

"I don't want him killed, maimed or crippled."

A long moment of silence passed. "How good a fighter is your Daniel?"

Jack snorted. "Look, lady, anybody can throw a fight if the prize is big enough."

"I do not understand this `throwing a fight.' If you mean that Daniel might lose intentionally, you are wrong. The _illuminatus_ inside him will not allow it. The challenger will do what is necessary to prove it is worthy to carry them. There can be no guarantees."

"Has one already been chosen?" asked Sam.

"One will come forth when we return to the arena," Esme explained. 

"I wanna talk to it," Jack demanded.

"They do not speak," said Esme. "Not to humans. Only when one of them dies do they vocalize, and they live a very, very long time. No one in recent times has heard that sound, though we do have recordings of it." She shook her head and came to stand before Jack, looking up at him with great pride. "I alone of my people can hear them, when they wish it. I have been altered to be the link between my people and theirs."

Intuition hit, linking up concepts. "The Watch Commander," said Jack. "Those gargoyles… they're your night watch. Your guardians. They protect you from yourselves." He looked at Daniel with sudden understanding. That was exactly what the Colorado Springs ninja had been doing, a galaxy away. 

"Yes, colonel." She nodded. "The _illuminatus_ enhances their ability to find—"

"—crimes in progress," Jack finished for her. "I know. Daniel's been on night watch for too long now. He needs to retire, but I need to know he won't get killed. We need to see some of your gargoyles in action, watch how they fight, so I can help him prepare."

Esme blinked at him. "How will you do that?"

Jack eyed the man in the chair, huddled in the blanket. "Got a crime detector right there, ma'am. All we need is transportation."

She shook her head. "He will choose a crime where he may be of help, not one that has already been covered by one of the other Guardians. They communicate with each other, choosing the call nearest them and warning the others away."

Jack rubbed his face with his hand. "Like cops on the radio, running everything through dispatch," he mumbled.

"Madame Bien," called Carter, "do you have any recordings of past challenges in the arena? Or maybe some of the crimes your Guardians stopped were recorded. On our world, we sometimes have people in the right place at the right time with a video recorder who capture crimes on film, though they're rare."

"That we do," Esme assured them. "Come. I will show you our Guardians in action."

She led the team across the street to the same meeting room in the city hall that they'd been in earlier. While they walked, Jack glanced up at the night sky and saw nothing. Apparently the night watch had begun.

"So these _illuminatus_ , they actually are the Guardians?" he asked, remembering Daniel's ascension and wondering if, perhaps, these creatures had a similar form of evolution to a higher plane of existence. "Why do they need somebody to live in and why'd they pick Daniel?"

"They do not need a host," Esme returned, holding up a hand to stop the traffic and allow her guests to cross the street. "Those who are our Guardians maintain a number that expands with our population. When a new Guardian is needed, one of the _séréf_ —"

"What's that?" Jack cut in.

Esme glanced up at him as he walked by her side. " _Séréf_ is our name for what they are when they do not host the _illuminatus_. When one of the _séréf_ or a Guardian dies, they become _illuminatus_. The _illuminatus_ then choose a champion. Of those on your team exploring the…" She looked at Doctor Lee for a descriptive word.

"Grotto," he supplied instantly.

"When your team explored the grotto, your Daniel was the only possible choice. The _illuminatus_ could not distinguish species because they cannot sense your bodies. They were drawn to the light that is the true image of his being. The light that you saw in our recording."

Jack looked at Daniel, walking with Doctor Fraiser's arm linked in his on one side, Carter's through the other. Of course the fireflies would have been drawn to him, if they saw him like he was in that recording. Only they weren't meant to be stuck in a human body. 

He glanced upward again and saw the dark shape of a gargoyle patrolling the sky above. The fireflies were meant to live in those things, sturdy and strong, still and quiet during the day and keeping watch over the city at night. They looked indestructible, and Jack suspected human beings were pretty fragile compared to them.

Ten minutes later, dinner forgotten, the Tau'ri group sat with the Watch Commander in the city hall, staring at the holographic display. A vision of the off-world arena came up, and Esme explained that the combat they were about to see was between two _séréf_ , rather than a Guardian and a human.

The fight was brutal and long, lasting nearly two hours. Much of it took place in the air over the arena, but one of the _séréf_ got its wing smashed and was forced to fight on the ground afterward. Jack had that one pegged as the winner and felt vindicated when it triumphed over its opponent. However, the loser was carried off the field and Esme reported that the young warrior later died from its wounds.

Esme cued up another hologram, this one taken from surveillance footage somewhere in the city. She explained the background of the crime taking place, how many lives were at stake, and Jack watched in horror as the gargoyle made short, bloody work of the human criminal. A couple of rakes of those razor-tipped claws and the man was trying to pick his guts up off the ground and stuff them back inside his shredded body before he died.

Jack put his head down on the table, sick at heart. If the _illuminatus_ didn't kill Daniel, the _séréf_ would. There seemed to be no way to win this battle.

"When does this contest take place?" asked Teal'c after a long silence.

"Tomorrow, just before dawn on our world," Esme told them quietly. "The Guardians must rest in the sun to collect energy. They are active at night and as dawn is breaking on this world, the sun has just set on theirs."

"That was their homeworld?" asked Sam. "The one with the arena?"

Esme nodded. "They came to this world to help free us from the Goa'uld. When they had done that, we asked them to stay and watch over us. They chose to do so, to live lives with purpose, rather than return to their home and have none." She smiled proudly. "They are a noble race, people of the Tau'ri. I wish you had them on your world, so you could better understand our relationship with them."

"I think we might've had `em there at one time," Jack guessed, remembering Notre Dame and all the hundreds of statues on its ramparts. "Maybe they helped us fight the Goa'uld there, too. There are statues of `em on a lot of our old buildings." He shrugged.

"Most likely put there to honor the Guardians of ancient legend," added Doctor Lee, "or in the hope of inviting them back as protection from evil."

"Only when the stargate closed in Egypt, they couldn't come back," Jack finished. "So they became myths."

Suddenly aware of eyes intensely focused on him, he looked up.

Daniel was smiling at him, nodding his head.

"You got that, buddy? Was I right?" Jack wanted to smile. This seemed to be the first evidence that Daniel could still understand them. That gave him a little hope.

"So, what do we do, sir?" Carter prodded gently. 

Jack eyed the hole in the table where the hologram projector was buried, remembering the brief, bloody fight between human and gargoyle. Then he looked at Doctor Fraiser and back at the Watch Commander.

"Reckon one of these things would let our doctor poke and prod it a little?" he asked her.

Esme's fine pewter brows drew together in confusion. "Such actions would only irritate them. I do not think they would allow it."

Janet spoke up, drawing the alien woman's attention. "I'd like to take some tissue samples and examine one up close," she clarified. "If Daniel's going to have a fighting chance, he needs to go in armed with knowledge, to understand what he's up against."

"Ah." Esme folded her hands on the table. "We have biological data on them, if that is what you wish. I can have the information translated aloud into your language. We may not have all of the words translated, however."

"I'll go with, to help with that," said Lee.

"I'm all yours," Janet stated boldly, rising from the table. "Colonel, if you'd like to take everyone back across the street for some dinner, I'll be back as soon as I can."

~~**~~

Jack watched Daniel warily as they walked out into the street. The Rouenese used vehicles rather like wave runners that traveled on a cushion of air, moving in orderly patterns down the wide boulevard. Traffic stopped for the pedestrians and, when they mounted the flagstone pavement fronting the Watchtower, a sudden sound made Jack look up.

Instantly he was pushing Daniel down to the ground, P-90 held in both hands and taking aim instinctively at the huge creature swooping low over their heads. It landed a few feet away with a quiet _whish_ , folded its wings and took a step toward the group.

"Hold it right there!" Jack demanded.

The gargoyle froze and moved its gaze from Daniel to Jack. It stretched to its full height of eight feet, looking down at him, and crossed its arms over its chest. Its black eyes narrowed, studying him.

In the glow of the streetlights, Jack could see it clearly now. It towered over him, skin looking like gray, pitted granite. Its shoulders and arms were massive, hands so huge they could have folded completely around his head and squished it like a grape. Its legs were bent at the knee into a shallow crouch, and its feet looked more like they belonged on an enormous St. Bernard than resembling anything human. 

A long tail extended from its backside, reclining on the grass beside its feet in a graceful curve. Broad, thick bat-like wings flared out from its shoulders, and its head, while vaguely resembling something quasi-human in shape, was dominated by those big black eyes, shining like smoothly polished obsidian in its face. A broad, aquiline nose hooked over an almost non-existent lipless mouth, set into a strong, squared chin. Pointed ears arched toward the back of its head, which was covered in a mass of what looked like tiny tentacles, or maybe really thick, greenish hair. Its body was uniformly the same color all over, except for small patches of stuff on its shoulders and thighs that looked like velvety green moss.

Its facial expression seemed calm, not a hint of emotion showing other than the slight narrowing of its eyes as it regarded Jack. He couldn't tell if it was threatening and about to attack or just dropping by to say a friendly gargoyle hello, and that made him jumpy. The only thing he knew for certain was that it was interested in Daniel.

The younger man got slowly to his feet again, pulling his blanket closer about him, and stepped between Jack and the creature. Daniel held up one hand, palm out, telling Jack to take no action. Then he turned and walked toward the gargoyle, a wondering smile on his face.

Jack clenched his teeth, squeezing his weapon a little harder. He hated it when Daniel did stuff like this. Those things were dangerous. He had seen the damage they could do and how easily they managed it. Jack didn't trust them near his teammate, especially since Daniel was under the influence of their _illuminatus_.

For a moment, man and alien just looked at each other. The creature's gaze rolled slowly back to Jack's tense face, then back to Daniel before it moved. One hand, bristling with razor sharp claws, reached out slowly toward Daniel. It eyed Jack again before it made contact, as if asking permission.

It seemed more curious than threatening, so Jack waited anxiously, ready to shoot it if it made the wrong move. 

Those thick, rough-looking fingers lightly brushed Daniel's cheek. As its hand drew away, Daniel caught it, running his fingers over the stony-textured flesh.

"Wow," Carter breathed at his elbow. "They're checking each other out."

The gargoyle squatted down a little farther, dropping down to Daniel's height. They just stared at each other, not a sound passing between them. Then Daniel half turned and gestured at his friends. The gargoyle pointed upward, and Jack looked up, catching sight of a few more dark shapes now flying overhead.

"Are they communicating?" asked Teal'c. "I hear nothing."

"Maybe they're telepathic," suggested Carter. "Madame Bien said she'd been altered to communicate with them. Maybe this _illuminatus_ thing might make it possible for Daniel to link up with them. I'd love to listen in on _that_ conversation." She was smiling, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.

Jack turned his attention back to Daniel and his new friend. He took a step forward when Daniel moved very close to the creature, looking at something on its chest. The archaeologist's free hand was touching it and in the wash from the street lights Jack saw that it was a symbol just like the one on the Watch Commander's pendant, only this one appeared to be carved into the gargoyle's chest. It looked like a simple eye, standing on end between the creature's pectorals, right over its heart – if it even had one.

As a commotion sounded in the street behind him, Jack instinctively turned to glance at the traffic accident. People were shouting and getting off their vehicles while others sought to move around them. His attention was diverted for only a few seconds, but a shout from Teal'c made him turn back to check on his teammate and the gargoyle. 

"Daniel!" cried Carter, rushing forward to where he had been standing a moment earlier.

He and the creature were gone.

Jack clenched his teeth, looking up as man and creature rose steadily and swiftly into the night sky, those broad wings flapping noiselessly in strong, powerful strokes that pushed against the air and lifted them higher, angling over the street and the courtyard surrounding the Watchtower. The creature held Daniel effortlessly against its chest, clutching him gently as if he were weightless and incredibly precious. Daniel had his arm around the creature's neck, his face filled with joy, a bright smile on his lips, his eyes on the sky.

Jack couldn't shoot the creature down without risking injuring Daniel, either from a bullet or the fall, and he watched helplessly as the pair disappeared into the dark sky. 

This was exactly what he had been afraid of happening. As always, Daniel was just being Daniel, going off to explore something new and exciting without thinking about letting his C.O. know what he was planning. With an exasperated sigh, Jack jogged back across the street, dodging traffic, hell-bent on finding the Watch Commander and making her have her minion bring back his archaeologist.

Esme Bien was just coming out of the city hall to meet them.

Jack grabbed her by the upper arm, impatience, frustration and anxiety getting in the way of reason. She spun quickly out of his grip and behind him, slamming into his back with her elbow and sending him staggering forward a few steps. That cleared his head a little and when he faced her again, he apologized. "Sorry, ma'am, I didn't mean to lay hands on you like that." He glanced upward, pointing with one finger. "But one of your big honkin' flying statues just ran off with my teammate, and he's got no business being out there doing God knows what with it."

The woman's eyes were glittering with leashed anger. "Your Daniel will come to no harm," she bit out. "He is with the eldest of the Guardians." Her eyes narrowed and her voice deepened, rough with resentment. "And they are not statues, colonel. Far from that."

"Make it bring him back," Jack demanded, drilling holes in her with his eyes. "Right now."

"I cannot." She lifted her chin defiantly. "He needs to be with them. They will help him."

Jack came closer, bending down into her face, mad as hell that she wasn't even trying to appear cooperative. "The only way they can help him is to get those things out of him, and you told me they can't do that without a fight. So how are they helping him?"

"The elder is taking him far away, where he will not feel the need to protect others as strongly. They understand that he is fragile, and they have no wish to harm him. They will see that he eats and rests, and they will help him become centered for his coming battle." She crossed her arms over her chest and stared him down, giving as good as she got.

That news made Jack feel a little better, though not completely relieving his anxiety. The Guardians were keeping Daniel clear of his compulsion to do battle, saving his strength for when he'd need it most. Jack let out a sigh of relief and started to relax. "You really trust them?" he asked quietly.

Esme also relaxed and clasped her hands behind her back. "I do, Colonel O'Neill. We have come to depend on them for, unlike human peacekeepers, they cannot be corrupted. They act only when necessary to protect others. They have no ego to satisfy, you see." She smiled, quiet admiration slowly lighting up her face as she talked. "They have no concept of self and make no distinctions among them. To speak to one is to speak to all. They do not even have names. Can you imagine that, colonel? To live so completely for good that you have no desires of your own?"

That was a pretty humbling concept. "No, I don't think I can."

"We have had generations to try to understand their virtue and still it eludes us." She nodded toward the street, and he fell into step beside her, watching the traffic, waiting for the proper moment to cross. "We know that we are better people for having them among us and hope that one day we may come to be more like them."

Jack glanced down at the pendant winking in the pale illumination from the streetlights. That she trusted them was a good thing, but Jack held onto his suspicion, only slightly comforted by her confidence in the alien creatures. When he saw Daniel back in one piece, he'd feel better. Until then, he simply kept his opinions to himself. 

As he rejoined his other teammates and headed back into the Watchtower, he cast an anxious eye into the sky. Once inside, they waited together for Doctors Lee and Fraiser to rejoin them.

~~**~~

Janet looked positively stunned when she sat down at the table a few hours later. Carter prepared a plate of food for her, but Fraiser didn't touch it at first, just staring down at the sandwich, cheese chunks and fruit. Bill Lee looked shaken and skipped the food completely, pouring himself a glass of juice with shaky hands and moving to the balcony to look upward, watching the sky.

"What's the most basic question a scientist asks when trying to classify a new discovery?" Janet asked.

Carter sat down across from her and pushed the plate a little closer to her friend. "Animal, vegetable or mineral?"

Fraiser nodded. "Well, lady and gentlemen, it seems the Guardians are all three." She looked down at the food finally and snatched up a half sandwich, chowing down on it instantly.

"What? That's impossible," Sam countered.

With a shake of her head, Janet swallowed her half-chewed mouthful. "You should know by now that rules of Earth do not apply to the entire universe, Sam. It's hard to believe, but these are beings that are as much plant and animal as rock. I could spend a lifetime studying them and barely scratch the surface."

"So how do we keep Daniel safe from these things?" Jack demanded quietly, reaching for a piece of ham-like meat dangling out of the other half of her sandwich.

Janet slapped his hand, barely blinking at his intrusion on her dinner. "I have no idea. They have skin thicker than an elephant's and imbued with granules of crystal that makes it really hard to cut. Daniel could punch and kick one all day and wouldn't hurt it. It would be like beating a brick wall."

"Vulnerable spots?" he suggested, successfully snatching a tiny chunk of cheese from the little pile beside her sandwich.

She swatted at him again. "They don't have a circulatory system like we do; more like that of trees, porous tissues that allow nutrients to pass from one organ to another. Their bones are almost as dense as stone, and their claws are like shards of obsidian. Talk about your perfect warrior. Wow." She took another bite of her sandwich and glared dangerously at Jack as his hand moved in for another snack run.

He thought better of stealing from her plate and went to fetch another one for himself. "So is there anything Daniel can do to keep this thing from killing him?"

"Hope he gets a nice one?" Janet sighed and stared down at her plate and shook her head hopelessly. "If the Guardian he fights just knocks him out with one punch, that could be all it takes." She frowned. "Then again, if it doesn't know just how hard to hit him, he could suffer some serious brain damage or—"

"Oy, more doom and gloom." Jack set his plate down on the serving table, his appetite suddenly MIA. "There's just no way to predict what's gonna happen, is there? We just have to hold our breaths and hope it turns out okay." He went to the balcony to stand beside Bill Lee, looking out at the night and wondering where Daniel was, if he was all right. As long as he was protected, Jack could deal with the war going on inside himself.

He felt like he'd let Daniel down somehow. Glancing back over his shoulder at Janet as she picked at her food, he thought to himself that there was a lot of that going around. One by one, he met his teammates' eyes and saw that they were all just as worried that they would lose Daniel one last time and have to stand by and watch it happen without lifting a finger to help.

Jack turned back to the starry night sky and swallowed the lump of fear and frustration in his throat, not wanting the others to see just how shaken he really was by that thought.

~~**~~

Daniel couldn't remember ever having been so cold. The old Guardian kept him gently pressed to its chest, cradled like a child, but it was like hugging a rock. He tried pulling the blanket tighter around him, but the wind currents beating at him during the flight cut through to the bone. He thought the gargoyle's body might even be inadvertently sapping his body heat, pushing him dangerously close to hypothermia.

He was getting sleepy, the cold settling into his mind.

_Soon. Keep awake, little one._

The thought coursing through Daniel's mind was so warm and kind it prodded him gently toward wakefulness. He thought they might be descending, sensing the ground coming up beneath them. The angle of the elder's body changed and suddenly its wings beat the air harder and faster. Daniel could feel the slight tremor of impact as the alien's feet touched down. He expected it to put him down. He was shaking so hard he didn't think he could walk.

Still cuddled against the elder's broad, cold chest, it carried him into the mouth of a cave. The stone arch passing above them was carved in elegant swirls brushed by the blue light of four tiny moons in the night sky. Inside the cave the soaring roof had been carved into peaked vaults and a warm amber glow from oil lamps fastened to the walls bade them welcome. One huge fist struck a wooden door set into an archway, and after a moment it was opened, a fountain of welcome warmth spilling out toward them.

Daniel looked over the tops of his fogged glasses, peering down from his living cradle into the face of a very old man dressed in long, shabby brown velvet robes. The fellow looked startled by the appearance of this creature at his door but pulled it open and let them inside without hesitation. The Guardian deposited Daniel gently on the floor in front of the fireplace and stood back, squatting down nearby to watch him.

"Greetings to you, stranger," the old man said with a cheery smile. "By what name shall I call you?"

The language was old, different from the Middle French he knew, but Daniel translated the Rouenese dialect with little trouble. He simply couldn't answer. He shrugged helplessly and offered a smile of apology.

The old man waited for a moment for a response, then looked to the Guardian for an explanation.

Daniel turned toward the flames, chilled to the bone, unable to stop shivering.

"He is injured? Mute? Foreign?" 

The Guardian's eyes narrowed. It raised one large hand and touched the mark on its chest, then pointed one finger at Daniel. 

Head jerking back as if he'd been slapped, eyes wide with shock, the old man gasped and clenched his fists over his chest. "No! My friend, does he not understand the price he will pay?" He stared at the Guardian.

The creature covered its face with its hands, then reached out with one of them and gently caressed Daniel's hair. It looked sad.

A heavy, sorrowful breath escaped the old man. He bowed deeply to Daniel and straightened slowly. "I am Arneau, friend of the Guardians. I offer you the comforts of my humble home for as long as you may live." He moved to his bed, stripped the blankets from it and brought them to his guest, wrapping them around Daniel's shoulders. "You will need to eat. My food is humble, but I will happy to bring you some of it," he announced and disappeared into what must be his kitchen.

Daniel eased closer to the hearth, hands stretched out to catch the heat from the flames. The warmth gradually seeped into him. By the time he warmed up, the old man had returned with a bowl of thick stew and a chunk of bread and cheese on a plate. Daniel took them from him and lifted his face to offer his thanks, but he couldn't remember how to work his voice. His mouth moved but no sound came out. He looked helplessly up at his host.

"You need not thank me," Arneau said warmly, patting his shoulder. "You cannot speak, I know. It is part of what _illuminatus_ does in our bodies. They begin to change us, as they do the _séréf_ , to make them into Guardians." He bowed toward the Guardian. "Only they are far stronger than we. Our bodies cannot tolerate hosting the _illuminatus_ for long, as I am sure you realize by now."

Daniel nodded. Hunger reminded him that he had food in his grasp, and he began to shovel it in as fast as he could chew and swallow. It tasted good and warmed him on the inside as the fire heated him outside. He sighed when he finished, rose and carried the bowl back to his host, offering a bow of thanks.

Arneau had been sitting in a rocking chair, watching him eat. "Would you like more?" he asked politely as he took the bowl. "I have plenty, if you wish." 

Daniel shook his head, satisfied and content for the moment. He dipped his head, hands fluttering in the air, trying to find a signal that the old man might understand to offer his gratitude. He tried the American Sign Language gesture, then shook his head, certain Arneau would not understand.

"You are welcome," said his host with a mirthful twinkle in his eyes, taking a guess at the meaning of the gesture. "Come, sit by the fire, young one. I will remember the old days, and you will listen politely." He chuckled.

Daniel grinned. He had so many questions, so many things he wanted to know about what was happening to him, about where he was, who this man was and his connection to the Guardians. He could think clearly again, the images that had tortured him now little more than distant whispers. He settled down on the hearth, drew his blanket around himself, and pulled one from the pile by the hearth to lay across his host's lap.

"You are a thoughtful young man," Arneau observed happily. "No wonder you have caught the Guardians' attention." He turned to make eye contact with the elder. "May I get you anything, old friend?"

The gargoyle slowly shook its head. Its eyes closed, and it grew very still.

"All right, then. Rest and listen to the Others." Arneau gazed fondly at the creature. "Beautiful, is it not?"

Daniel looked at the giant alien, studied its features, the lines of its face, the radiance he saw pouring out from it. There was a stately presence about it, an air of great dignity that he found compelling. Though its skin looked rough and pitted and felt cold and grainy, it had been incredibly gentle with him. 

What moved him most, however, were the gossamer brushes of the Guardians' righteous minds against his own. That was an experience to be coveted. Daniel felt humbled by the depth of their goodness and purity.

He nodded. Yes, the Guardian was beautiful and also unique, transcending its outward appearance. It was ugly to human eyes, but its inner beauty radiated in blinding glory. The Guardians were the most beautiful spirits Daniel had ever encountered. He was in awe of them.

"It will not be easy, what you must do," Arneau said gravely, his gaze now firmly fixed on his guest's face. "In all of our shared history, only once has the transfer been done successfully." He paused, his brown eyes filled with sorrow. "Other human beings once sought out the _illuminatus_ in the vain hopes of attaining glory or revenge. They were driven mad by it or killed in the battle meant to free them. Those who could not rid themselves of the _illuminatus_ … died."

The odds didn't sound good. Daniel still wasn't sure exactly what was expected of him. His mind had been so cluttered when his friends were discussing his situation that he hadn't gotten all the details. 

"You are wondering how I know about all this, yes?" 

Daniel nodded.

The old man's hands moved to the collar of his robe. He began to unfasten the knotted buttons down the front, talking quietly as he opened up his clothes. "I was an historian, long ago, when I was young like you." He smiled. "I sought out knowledge in many places, everywhere on my world..." He glanced at the sleeping gargoyle and smiled wistfully. "…and on theirs. I journeyed to the arena to document the battle between two _séréf_ , but both of them were badly injured. I helped the winner into the grotto and was taken by the _illuminatus_ in error, because I was the stronger at that moment."

Arneau's gnarled hands parted the plackets of his robe, revealing his drooping chest covered in a forest of white curls. Beneath the hair, right over his heart, was a thick red scar in the shape of an eye standing on end. After a moment, he closed the robe and began to button it up again.

Daniel stared, hope rising up within him. Arneau had once been where he was now and lived to tell the tale.

"No one knows this, my young friend, save for the Guardians and me." He sighed and rubbed his face with his hands. "When I returned, I was none the wiser, believing that the young _séréf_ had received the gift. It died without ever leaving its world, as did the challenger."

The old man rose, wrapping his blanket around his shoulders, and shuffled toward a small bookcase mounted against the rock wall.

"It was many nights later that I realized I could hear the Guardians. By then I was already on the streets of my city, seeking out evil and doing battle to save innocent lives. That was where the elder found me. It watched me fight, and when the skirmish was over, it counseled me, told me what had happened and what must be done if I wished to live. What it could not tell me was how to survive the battle. They cannot think in so devious a manner, to cheat death and yet lose a fight." He smiled, a touch of pride in his eyes fading into sadness. "That is a human trait, I fear."

He pulled out a leather-bound book, gazed at it fondly for a moment, then shuffled back to his chair. "This is my journal, boy. It will tell you how to lose and, in doing so, win the fight of your life." He handed the book to his visitor with a heavy sigh. "Perhaps that is why the elder brought you here." Arneau turned to look at the Guardian and saw that its dark eyes were now open, regarding them both.

Daniel imagined he saw the creature smile.

"It wishes you to live," Arneau declared. "You must be very special, indeed." He patted Daniel on the shoulder. "Study well, young one. I am old and need my sleep." Slowly he rose and started toward his bed. 

Daniel gathered up the rest of the covers by the hearth and hurried ahead, laying them out on the bed and turning down the covers by the time the old man got there. 

"Thank you for your kindness," said Arneau warmly, patting his cheek. "Your mother must be very proud of you."

A lump rose up instantly in Daniel's throat. He looked away, waiting until the old man had gotten under the covers before spreading the last blanket on top. 

Daniel retreated to the rocking chair, picking up his blanket and wrapping it around himself as he sat down. He took the journal and scanned the pages, looking for familiar words that might tip him off to the proper starting point. 

Fortunately, like many archaeologists, the historian was fond of drawing small pictures to illustrate specific passages and discoveries. Once Daniel found the account of the battle of the doomed _séréf_ , he set to work deciphering and translating the story. He was so absorbed in the tale he didn't hear the elder when it called.

The Guardian rose, the sound of its motion drawing Daniel's attention. He realized it must have been several hours while he was studying; quite possibly most of the night had passed without his notice.

_We must return._

_I'm not finished yet! Just a little more time, please?_ Daniel clutched the book until his fingertips turned white.

_You have learned the secrets. Hold them close, or we will see. We must go, before the sunrise._

With a sigh, Daniel closed the journal and left it lying on the chair. Glancing at the sleeping man, he wished he could thank him for his help and kindness but didn't want to wake him. Daniel gathered his blanket around himself and led the way out of the cave to the spot where they had landed hours earlier. He was tired, but not as exhausted as he had been just a day earlier. A night of peace had done wonders for him.

The Guardian squatted down, and Daniel stepped up on its bent thigh, hooked one arm around the elder's neck, and it embraced him, holding him close to its body. With one mighty leap, it was sky-bound, its arms closed around him just tightly enough to keep him safe. He was freezing again by the time they returned to the city and the elder folded its wings and carried him into the domed building that housed the Rouenese stargate. 

The rest of his teammates, along with Bill and Janet and the Watch Commander, were waiting for them there.

Jack looked worried. "Daniel, you okay?"

He tried to nod as the elder set him on his feet, but all he could do was shake. The visions had started again well before they arrived at the city, and Daniel wanted desperately to answer them. He turned, seeking the nearest exit, but the Guardian blocked his path.

_You must not go, little one._

_I must,_ Daniel pleaded, gazing up into the elder's eyes, teeth chattering from cold and face contorted with need.

There was murder in the colonel's eyes as he turned his anger on the elder, uncertain what was wrong with his younger friend but obviously ready to blame the Guardian. Daniel stepped between them, stumbling against Jack and drawing his attention away from the Guardian. Jack's arms went around his shoulders and steadied him, helping keep him on his feet.

"Jeez, you're like ice," he growled unhappily. Turning to look around at the Watch Commander, he barked for some blankets or a heater to warm Daniel up and gestured to the rest of the team to gather around him. They pressed themselves against him, sharing their body heat, and in a few minutes the chill had broken enough that he could stay upright on his own.

He wanted to thank them but contented himself with a smile. They were his family, and he loved them. He hoped they knew that.

Esme returned with a small box in her hands and a bag dangling from one wrist. She handed the box to Jack, who opened it and ducked back from a cloud of steam. He glanced inside and retrieved a small, thin blanket, heat rising up from its surface. He wrapped it around Daniel, who sighed blissfully at the warmth soaking into his body.

"Once you have warmed sufficiently, we will journey to the arena on the _séréf_ homeworld to await the arrival of the challenger," Esme declared. 

"I thought all of them were on your planet now?" Jack looked up at the elder Guardian suspiciously.

Esme shook her head. "Only those who have joined with the _illuminatus_. Those who have not remain on their homeworld to live quietly. When a Guardian on my world dies, the _illuminatus_ return to their homeworld to choose a replacement."

"So these _séréf_ will meet us there?" asked Carter.

"They do not live close to the arena and must wait until nightfall before they travel," explained Esme. "Many may come to watch. We have a little time before the match begins, but it will be more comfortable for your friend if we go now. Already he hears the call, and it is not yet time for the sunrise. If we stay…" She eyed Daniel with a sympathetic gaze. "He will be weakened. Better to go now, before he is overcome with need."

Daniel nodded in confirmation, shuddering as the summons to act intensified.

The group hurried to the stargate, the members of SG-1 bodily moving their linguist toward the Rouenese stargate. The Watch Commander dialed the Guardian homeworld and SG-1, Doctors Fraiser and Lee, and the elder Guardian followed her into the wormhole. 

Instantly upon their arrival, Daniel relaxed, the silence and peace filling him up. He smiled, enjoying his companions' light conversation as they walked toward the nearby arena, choosing ringside seats right in the middle of the first row of stone benches. The sun had just set, only a narrow band of color on the horizon providing them enough light to find their way.

Esme reached for her bracelet and turned a large onyx cabochon around. From all around the rear of the arena, white balloons glowing with soft light rose up, illuminating the scene as brightly as daylight. "The lights are for our benefit, that we may see the battle. The _séréf_ see well in total darkness." She nodded toward Daniel. "As does your friend."

"Sir, I've _got_ to check into some of their technology," Sam insisted enthusiastically.

"When we get back," Jack answered absently, staring at the lighted balloons. He turned his attention to the man sitting quietly beside him. "I never thought I'd miss hearing you talk, Daniel… but I do."

Daniel smiled at him, understanding the unspoken unease behind Jack's statement. He wanted to reassure his friend but there wasn't any way to do that. Daniel didn't know if he'd be walking out of the arena or carried out to be buried back on Earth.

Relishing the internal quiet, Daniel thought this might be a place where he could live with the _illuminatus_ in his system, if he had the bad luck to triumph over his opponent. And _if_ he survived. He wanted to be free of their influence, but combat with something that could easily squash him like a bug wasn't a very pleasant way to go about enticing them to leave. He thought just walking up to one of the _séréf_ ought to be able to do the trick, but apparently the _illuminatus_ needed more concrete proof that the _séréf_ was a superior warrior. He was also afraid of hurting the alien, because he did know a thing or two about battle now, how to hurt, maim and kill. He'd learned that from Jack and hard experience in the field and knew he wouldn't be holding back during the forthcoming fight.

He wondered how much longer they'd have to wait.

Jack stood up and looked down at him. "Hey, wanna go through a few moves, maybe? Warm up a little?"

Daniel glanced up into his worried eyes, thinking for a second, and nodded. He stood up and let his blanket drop off his shoulders, leaving it behind on the stone seat. He glanced down at his hospital scrubs, wishing he had something more appropriate to wear, but the extra clothes they'd brought for him were back in the Watchtower on Rouen. 

Jack lifted off his P-90 and set it down by Carter's feet, then took off his vest and BDU jacket and laid them aside, leading the way out into the arena.

When they arrived at the middle of the open space, Jack pulled Daniel close and spoke softly in his ear. "The Watch Commander told us the Guardians are all linked, sort of a single mind thing. Is it some sort of telepathy?"

Daniel nodded. Jack's gaze slid over to the huge alien sitting still as a statue in the stands. "Can you get rid of the Guardian? I'd like to show you a couple of new things that might help and don't want it watching."

Daniel hadn't thought about the journal and what he'd read, didn't want to have that floating about in his mind for the challenger to know. However, he wasn't sure that using the same technique twice would work. If the séréf he fought had been witness to that previous battle, it would already know what Arneau had done and most likely have figured a strategy to avoid the same outcome. Daniel needed something new, something that hadn't been seen or tried yet. Apparently Jack was thinking the same thing.

Daniel held up a finger, indicating for Jack to wait. Daniel aimed his thoughts to the elder, sitting just behind the rest of the Tau'ri. ** _Thank you for all that you have done for me, friend._

_You are welcome._

_Have you sensed my thoughts?_ Daniel turned to look across the arena into those fathomless black eyes.

_Only your disquiet and uncertainty. You are concerned for your challenger and do not wish to hurt us._ The gargoyle inclined its head. _We honor you for this._

_I am called Daniel, old one._ He hesitated. _I must ask you to go for a little while. You may return when the others come._

Without warning the gargoyle sprang up into the air and flew off.

Daniel started stretching while Jack did some calisthenics to warm up. The movements hurt, reminding him of his still-healing ribs, but he gritted his teeth and ignored the pain. He couldn't let that stop him now because his life was on the line. Battle was the only way to get rid of the _illuminatus_ in his body and get his life back… _if_ he lived through the battle itself.

"Ready?" Jack asked after a few minutes.

When Daniel nodded, he went down on his knees to practice the last technique he'd been shown. Jack moved forward, aiming a fist at Daniel's head, swinging hard. Daniel caught his arm by the wrist and pulled, swept his other arm across Jack's chest and leaned forward, promptly dumping Jack on his back. 

O'Neill grimaced and got slowly to his feet. "Okay, so you remember that one pretty well. I don't think you'll be able to use that move on a two-ton living statue. No way sweeps or throws will work on these things. Let's try some advanced stuff. Since you may get knocked down, I want to show you how to fight from the ground."

Jack lay on his back in the dirt. "Okay, attack me like you think these aliens might come at you."

Daniel tried to imagine how the séréf might strike from above, how to let it get in close before he moved. Once he had a few ideas, he stepped up to stand next to Jack's right hip. He leaped up into the air and came down with legs spread, straddling the prone man, reaching down with his right hand to rake across Jack's chest.

Jack's fist came up, thumb extended, and dragged across Daniel's abdomen from the waistband of his scrub pants to his sternum. He grinned, holding up his thumb and wiggling it. "That was a knife, in case you didn't get the idea. I'm giving you mine for the fight. They've got claws, so you need an equalizer."

If Jack's thumb _had_ been a knife, Daniel would have been split wide open. He glanced at the knife in the scabbard on Jack's belt. The gargoyle had razor-sharp claws. He ought to have the same advantage.

Daniel nodded. He tried the same move with Jack attacking him, fumbled through it the first time and missed the crucial timing, but got it on the second and third tries. He nodded, got up and Jack lay down again, trying several different defensive measures followed up with attacks. Though anything he might do with a short-bladed knife like the ones they carried in the field would do little more than annoy the _séréf_ , a few deep cuts would slow it down and make it move more carefully. Daniel had no idea how they felt pain – if they felt it at all – but surely if he were lucky and got in a few hits in important places, he could keep it from killing him outright.

He strolled back to the stands with Jack, who handed over his knife as they walked. As the older man started to sit down, Daniel tugged him over to stand in front of Janet Fraiser. He looked at her for a moment, trying to figure out how to ask for the information he needed. She wasn't telepathic and none of the Tau'ri knew sign language except him, aside from the hand signals they used in combat situations. Daniel sighed, brow furrowed in thought. 

Holding his left hand palm out, he tried to help Jack understand that Daniel wanted him to keep still. Then, when he saw another nod, Daniel glanced at Janet and carefully directed the knife toward Jack's body, bringing it carefully up to lay aside his neck, then pointing at his heart with the tip, making a slash over his abdomen without actually touching his body with the blade, marking the most desirable targets with the motion and angle of the blade.

He turned to look at Janet, then raised his hands and flapped them at his sides like wings. He handed Janet the knife, hilt first, then pointed at himself.

"Uhhh…" She took it, glancing between him and Jack, not understanding the pantomime.

"He wants to know where to strike the gargoyle for maximum effect," Jack explained. "You've researched their physiology, so…?"

"Oh." Janet stood up and marked Daniel's neck in the same way he had done with Jack. "They don't have a circulatory system, per se, and can absorb oxygen through their skin as well as breathing it in through their lungs. A strike to the throat won't kill one but it will slow it down. If you can cut through the esophagus, that will make it dependent on their secondary oxygen collection system, so the _séréf_ will be sluggish in its movements."

Laying her free hand on his chest, she continued. "Same goes for the lungs, same place as ours, but the tissues between are so dense you'll only be able to penetrate deep enough if you thrust with your whole body weight, upward at an angle, just below the ribs. I'll warn you, though, if you hit a rib, your blade will shatter like glass."

Daniel nodded, feeling a little light-headed at the knowledge being imparted to him. Doctor Fraiser was very good at her job. Not only did she know how to heal, she'd be deadly in combat because she knew every vulnerability and how to exploit it. Those were two sides of the same coin.

"If you can get to its back, there's a tendon-like anchor on the underside of where the wing is attached to the body. If you can cut that, it won't be able to fly."

That had been part of Arneau's strategy that Daniel had read in the old man's journal. Arneau had clung to the _séréf_ 's back and disabled it with cuts to the wing and throat. The wily _séréf_ had simply fallen backward, trapping his body under it until he had passed out. In that unconscious state the _illuminatus_ had left him and had gone into the Guardian, allowing Arneau to return to the average man he had been prior to becoming their host. 

Janet pointed out a multitude of targets, describing exactly how to attack them and what damage such a wound would do. When she finished, she handed the knife back to him and stepped back, resuming her seat on the stone bench. She looked worried. "Did you get all that, Daniel?"

He smiled and turned to Jack, who was still standing beside him. Very quickly, he made slashing and stabbing motions to illustrate the techniques she had described and turned back to her with a wink.

"Very impressive," Esme said to them. "You must be a great warrior among your people, Daniel."

He snorted and shook his head, then pointed to Jack, Teal'c and Sam. He felt Jack's gaze on him and turned to make eye contact.

Jack hooked his thumbs in his belt and leaned back a little, pride in his eyes. "Yeah. Actually, he is."

Daniel met that unwavering gaze and was pleased with the compliment. It felt good to be acknowledged by a man who Daniel knew measured others by the same yardstick with which he measured himself. Jack had always held himself to a high standard, and for Daniel to know that he had met Jack's approval meant a great deal. _Had he come so far in so short a time?_ Daniel stuck out his hand toward Jack, and they shook hands firmly.

He turned to head out to the center of the arena to wait. He could feel them coming closer and knew they would be arriving soon.

Esme caught at his sleeve. "Daniel, you must change into this costume before you fight. It will stretch to fit you." She removed the bag from her wrist and held it out toward him.

Daniel did a double-take, then looked to Jack to speak for him.

"Costume?" asked Jack, right on cue. "Y'mean, like Batman?"

"What he is wearing will not do," Esme insisted. "What is a batman?"

That bag looked awfully small. Daniel peered inside it while Jack explained the concept of comic strip superheroes. 

Daniel pulled the costume out, staring at the burgundy pants that looked like they would fit a six year old, made of some kind of soft, suede-like material. The equally small tunic had a Mandarin collar decorated with small, flat gold studs and long sleeves that ended in a point over the hands. A matching pair of soft suede boots completed the outfit. If it stretched to fit, it promised to be skin-tight. 

Daniel would die of embarrassment if he had to wear that. He thrust the bag back at her and shook his head.

She raised an eyebrow, reached out and grabbed a fistful of his scrub top, tugging on it gently. "Then you will be very easy to catch." One finely arched pewter eyebrow lifted in challenge.

Daniel's mouth went dry. He swallowed hard and painfully and pulled the teeny costume close in capitulation. He rolled his eyes with a frustrated sigh.

Jack clapped him on the shoulder with a wry grin, shaking his head. "Only you, Daniel. This stuff only happens to you."

Daniel nodded and sighed with resignation. 

He headed off behind the stadium alone, glancing about for a few minutes to make sure there was no one peeking, and set the little bag down. He kept looking around as he stripped off the scrub top and pulled on the burgundy tunic, pulling it way down to cover his butt. He quickly took off the scrub pants, stepped into the suede pants and struggled to pull them up his legs, then over his hips, tucking his body into the tight-fitting material until he was fairly confident he wouldn't embarrass himself too much. He sat down on the ground to pull on the boots, folded up his scrubs and put them in the bag.

The outfit was warm and surprisingly comfortable, once he got used to it. He glanced down at himself and decided it looked pretty classy. A menacing looking gargoyle with flared wings was embroidered across the front of the tunic in the same burgundy color of the material. With no mirror available he couldn't see whether it showed too much or adequately covered him, but that wasn't really its purpose. The material moved with him and kept him warm, so it would be perfect for the battle to come. Its thickness made him feel covered and the tunic stretched modestly down over his hips. Even the boots fit perfectly and nothing was restricting, flowing with his every movement like his own skin. He could see the wisdom of fighting in such an outfit.

He resettled his glasses on his nose, squared his shoulders, picked up the bag with his hospital clothes and headed back into the arena. He sat up straight as he took a seat beside his teammates in the near- darkness, lit by a half dozen small moons high up in the sky and those intriguing white balloons all around the back of the arena.

" _Niiiiice_ outfit," Sam breathed appreciatively, her eyes raking him.

" _I'll_ say," agreed Janet.

Daniel saw them looking him up and down and blushed. He made a dismissive motion with his hand.

"Not Batman," Jack added, shaking his head as he swept his teammate with a dispassionate glance. "I'm thinkin' more The Flash, but without the yellow lightning bolts or the hood. Which I never liked, anyway. Those wing thingies over his ears made him look goofy."

Daniel just glared at him with a shake of his head, unable to reply.

A sound like sheets flapping in the wind made them look up. "Show time," commented Jack softly.

All around them, _séréf_ were appearing out of the night and settling on the stone benches. 

As Daniel waited patiently with the others, Sam reached over to hand him her knife, along with the scabbard. He took it and glanced down at his outfit. There was no place to attach it. He started to hand it back, but Jack removed his belt and handed it over, solving the problem. It didn't go with his outfit, but Daniel didn't care. He strapped the belt through the scabbard slots and snugly around his waist, tucked the loose end of the belt over and inside, between the belt and tunic, and gave his friends a grateful smile. He turned the knife in his hand to a reverse position, blade tucked up behind his arm, all but out of sight. He was as ready as he was going to get.

"How will we know when the glowy thingies are gone?" Jack asked, leaning past Daniel to look at the Watch Commander. He turned his black baseball cap around on his head in preparation for the event to come.

"Ah! I almost forgot." She reached into a deep pocket in her long velvet skirt and produced several curved silver strips of metal with a hook on one end and what looked like a cobalt blue glass lens on the other. She handed them out to the Tau'ri who would be watching and put the last one on herself, looping the hook over her left ear and shifting the lens so that it sat just in front of her eye. "With this device, you will see what the _séréf_ see, as with the images in our meeting room. The _illuminati_ will be visible the moment they leave your Daniel's body."

Daniel reached for Jack's eyepiece. They tussled over it a little, and Jack finally let it go. Daniel held it up in front of his glasses, then took off his glasses and tried it without the corrective lenses between himself and the device. He looked around at everyone for a moment, frowned when he didn't see anything different, and handed it back.

"You can't see the fireflies in yourself anyway," O'Neill told him, tapping his temple with one fingertip. "They aren't in your lap, you know." 

Daniel shrugged and sighed, wishing he could engage in their usual banter.

"We will show you recordings," Esme offered congenially. She hesitated, her face growing serious. "If you survive."

Suddenly Daniel didn't care about _séréf_ vision.

A resounding thump from the center of the arena announced that his opponent had landed. Daniel turned to look at the alien. It was small compared to many of the others he'd seen, but still somewhere in the neighborhood of seven feet tall. Its skin was pale gray, making its eyes appear even darker, and it radiated with a peaceful pale blue glow. Behind it a short, thick tail just touched the ground, where most of the others Daniel had seen had much longer ones. This one, Daniel guessed, must have been quite young, not yet fully grown. Around its waist was a wide belt of what looked like pure gold, but no other clothing. 

The _séréf_ waited, still as a statue, for him to come to it.

Daniel glanced up in the stands, looking for the elder Guardian, but it wasn't there.

"You are not ready?" asked the challenger, its voice the sound of a multitude, as if it spoke for all of those who had come to watch.

The sound of wings above his head made him look up. The old Guardian settled lightly into place behind the humans, and Daniel gave it a smile and a nod. Those dark eyes closed briefly and the elder inclined its head.

_I am ready now,_ Daniel answered, turning to advance closer to the giant alien. Up close, it was huge and damned intimidating. _Can you hear me?_

It looked at him without emotion and gave him a regal nod. "We do not wish to kill you, little one."

He swallowed hard and tried to smile, despite the lump in his throat. _Nor do I wish to kill you, my friend._ Carefully, slowly, he reached out with his free hand and touched its face, radiant and brightly burning without heat. _You are beautiful._

"As are you." It stroked a knuckle across his cheek and backed away. "So it begins."

It leaped up into the air, flapping its wings and stirring up dust all around him.

Daniel shut out his fear, his mind now attuned to the battle at hand. It fluttered down toward him, then suddenly dropped to its feet and whirled around, striking at him with its tail. He leaped straight up, the tail sweeping harmlessly beneath him. As he landed, he launched himself forward, closing the distance between them. He ducked beneath a clawed hand and brought his blade upward as he danced quickly away, out of range, looking back to assess the damage he'd done.

The alien was slower than he was, and that would work in Daniel's favor. Just as it was turning to face him, he darted in for another quick slash to its abdomen. It caught him with its forearm, a glancing blow impacting against his back and sending him stumbling away. For a moment, he couldn't breathe, struggling to keep his wits about him as he turned to face his opponent, pain tingeing everything slightly pink.

He sucked in a wheezing breath and sneezed from the dust, ducking just in time to avoid the alien's fist swinging at his head. He dashed behind it, swiping his blade across its exposed side as he ran. He was much quicker and used that speed to his advantage, darting in and out, slashing its body every time he got in close. When it punched at him, he dodged the strike or spun away so that every contact was never more than a brush of one powerful limb against his body.

Backing away several steps, he panted to try to catch his breath. Five minutes into the battle, he was already flagging. His long period with little rest and his recent injury were taking their toll. The _séréf_ was still fresh and could go on like this for hours, despite the little nicks in its skin, which were steadily weeping a clear, yellowish fluid that served as blood.

Daniel knew he was going to have to take a chance, make some risky moves to try to get in close enough to do some real damage. If he took too long, he'd waste what energy he had and his limbs would eventually cease to obey his mind, leaving him vulnerable to his opponent. He knew that vulnerability might just get him killed. If his opponent landed even a single solid blow against his body, his bones would break. The Guardian wasn't using its claws yet, doing its best to spare him, but if he annoyed it with too many little stings from his blade, it would start using them.

He decided to stop running and let it come to him. Knees bent, hands in ready position, he waited. The alien cocked its huge head, listening to his thoughts, seeking them out, but he kept his mind blank, letting it make the first move.

It flung itself at him, fist first, in a full body lunge. He saw that giant hand coming straight for his head and at the last moment, dropped down to the ground, landing on his ass. He rounded his back and brought his legs up to provide momentum for a backward shoulder roll. Legs tucked in tightly to his chest, as his right shoulder made contact, and his feet were in position to hit the ground next. He straightened and pivoted, marking the _séréf's_ position just a few feet away to his right. He leaped onto its back and sliced quickly under the attachment of its right wing, then sank his blade into the base of its neck.

The creature flipped and flung him off, rising to its feet and reaching over its shoulder for the knife still embedded in its flesh. Its chest was heaving now, obviously in pain. It couldn't reach the knife, so it just left it there, turning to locate its opponent with gleaming eyes.

Daniel scrabbled backward on hands and knees, putting some distance between them until he could get to his feet.

"Go, Daniel!" shouted Jack, echoed briefly by the voices of the others, who quickly fell silent to keep from distracting the combatants.

Daniel couldn't look away, couldn't acknowledge their cheering, which sounded far away as his mind screened them out. He concentrated instead on his hands, reaching for the other knife at his side and withdrawing it from its scabbard.

The _séréf_ hissed in pain and defiance. Its fists uncurled, revealing long, thick fingers tipped with incredibly sharp claws. The alien advanced on him slowly, cautious and more respectful now, studying him.

He had made it take him more seriously, he knew. It faced him as a warrior now, no longer as a clumsy irritation to be easily put down. Its black eyes were narrowed, thoughtful, calculating.

"Well done, little one," it told him admiringly.

_I don't want to kill you,_ he repeated urgently. _You know I can't make this easy for you._

"And I can no longer be gentle with you," the giant responded, circling him. "You are a worthy opponent."

Daniel turned to keep it in front of him, ever watchful, waiting for its next move. It rushed him, and as he spun away, its claws ripped across his back, leaving bloody trails of fire in his skin. He sucked in a breath, grimacing, mouth opening in a silent scream, but he was still unable to make a sound. He had to ignore the white-hot agony of his wounds and concentrate. He didn't have much time left and knew it.

Suddenly he wished he didn't have an audience, not one made up of everyone who cared about him. He could sense the anxiety radiating toward him from where his friends sat watching, preparing to possibly watch him die. Daniel wanted to send them away but couldn't afford the break in concentration.

He darted in close and sliced across the _séréf's_ arm with its next lunge. Then he got it in the thigh with another, dancing away, spinning out of range, dodging and ducking as it came at him relentlessly. His legs were starting to burn from exertion; he was going to have to make his move soon. 

He feinted to bring it in close and succeeded in making a deep cut across its neck. There was a gush of sticky yellowish fluid, which coated his hand and blade.

The _séréf_ staggered back, one hand clutching at the wound. It hissed at him again but the sound withered away to silence before it finished the cry, its mouth still open, lungs empty. The being stood there trying to breathe, its throat clogged with its own fluids, its body drawing on its secondary, and less efficient, source of oxygen.

They were even now. 

He stole a glance at the audience and saw his friends hoping, praying he would survive, bracing themselves for whatever happened. He wanted to spare them the sight of his dying again. They had already been hurt enough. His eyes met Jack's for the briefest instant before he tore his gaze away, returning his full attention to his opponent.

_God! I don't want to kill you!_ he screamed at it in his mind. Tears gathered in his eyes, and he blinked them away. 

It walked slowly right up to him, an arm's length away, staring into his eyes. Its hand moved away from its throat and down to its side. Its chest no longer rose and fell with the motion of breathing. Had it been a human being, it would be dead already.

Daniel backed up a few steps, starting to circle around it, eye to eye, ready for anything. He could see its limbs, the slightest shift of weight as it moved onto one leg. He readied himself for a kick, preparing to duck and slice as the challenger's leg went over him.

Only he had forgotten it had a tail.

With all its strength, the creature pivoted on its right leg and swung its left out low to provide momentum for the turn. Its tail came up and around, impacting Daniel on his side and knocking him down hard on the ground. As soon as it finished the turn, the alien leaped up into the air and came down toward him.

Rolling onto his back, Daniel flipped the knife in his right hand to a forward grip, ready to rip its belly open.

The _séréf's_ right foot came down first, shattering Daniel's left thigh and, along with it, his concentration, for a fraction of a second. Breath hissed out of Daniel in a desperate, silent scream, agony paralyzing him. He saw its right hand coming toward his head, fingers folded into a fist, and reacted instinctively with one of Jack's new tricks. Catching its arm at just the right place near the elbow, he gave it a little push, just enough force to guide that deadly fist past his face and into the ground beside his head. 

Dust puffed up in a small cloud, choking him. An instant later, the _séréf's_ left hand closed around his throat and began to squeeze.

Daniel thrust upward with his knife, seeking a target he couldn't see, but its body wasn't in reach. Its face, hovering above his, began to darken against the starry sky behind its head. He jabbed at its arm, thrusting the blade in deep, but the alien yanked its right hand free of the ground and caught his hand, removing his weapon from his grip and flinging it away.

"No!" Jack shouted. "Daniel!"

Other familiar voices were screaming his name, the sound fading away like the roar of the ocean in his ears, drowning out everything. 

Darkness filled Daniel's vision. He closed his eyes and slipped away.

~~**~~

Watching Daniel go down, Jack's heart was in his throat as he leapt to his feet. The Rouenese device over his eye showed the sparkle of the _illuminatus_ exiting the younger man's body and entering the _séréf_ but the creature didn't release its grip immediately. It looked like it was still choking him, still trying to kill him, even though all resistance had vanished. 

Surely it could see the _illuminatus_ leaving Daniel! Wasn't that what this whole ordeal had been about? 

"It's not letting go!" Jack growled, his voice rising as he got to his feet, shouting at the creature. "Let him _go_ you sonofabitch!"

Everyone was on their feet now. Teal'c was already two steps into the arena, running toward the creature. Jack aimed his weapon near the combatants and squeezed off a few rounds, shooting up a spray of dirt around the alien to get its attention.

It let go instantly and straightened, glancing at him over its shoulder, obviously startled by the sudden noise, distracted from its objective.

Then Jack was running across the arena, passing Teal'c and closing in on their fallen comrade with everyone else on his heels.

The _séréf_ – now transformed into a new Guardian – looked down at the man lying so still on the ground. It stepped off Daniel, backing away a few feet, then tilted its head back and put its hand to its ruined throat. Its eyes closed.

Jack jumped over Daniel's body and dropped to his knees beside his teammate's shoulders. "Daniel!" he called, shaking him. He tore off the P-90 and dropped it beside him, snatching the alien viewing device off his head and throwing it, his face pale as Doctor Fraiser skidded up to them and dropped to her knees on the other side of Daniel's body, her equipment bag beside her. "Doc?"

He glanced up at her as she went immediately into physician mode. Jack studied Daniel's body, noting that his chest no longer rose and fell with breathing. Daniel's left thigh was dented and compressed, bearing the imprint of that alien footprint on the dark red fabric clinging to his thigh. The sight sickened Jack, but he couldn't give up hope. Not yet.

Janet pressed her stethoscope to Daniel's chest, moving the chestpiece around quickly. "No heartbeat. No breath sounds." She sat up and opened the high collar with ease, then pressed her fingertips against his throat to check for a pulse and shook her head.

Jack reached under Daniel's neck and tipped his head back, then started to open his mouth to start CPR.

"Wait!" Janet called. Her skilled fingers pressed against Daniel's throat, palpating quickly from just under the jaw to his collarbones to check if his windpipe had been crushed. "No apparent fractures. Okay, colonel, you do the chest compressions. I'll do the breathing. Go." She slipped her finger into Daniel's mouth to check for obstructions and pull his tongue out of the way, then bent down and sealed his mouth with hers, counting off two breaths.

Jack locked his hands together in the formation he'd been taught and leaned onto Daniel's chest, starting a count of ten compressions.

A sound went up around them then, a noise like nothing Jack had ever heard, yet so eerily familiar it sent chills down his spine. The sheer volume shook the earth, vibrating like a small quake. It was the most beautiful, terrifying, uplifting chorus Jack had ever heard. It left him breathless and, for a moment, none of the humans moved except for Janet and Jack, still working in perfect concert, counting ten compressions and two breaths, ten and two, check pulse, then ten and two. 

He glanced around and saw that the entire audience of _séréf_ were raising their voices in a brief, achingly glorious song of tribute and then fell utterly still and silent, like statues all around the arena, all looking down on them with their solemn, alien faces and glassy obsidian eyes. 

Jack's heart was thundering in his chest as he concentrated on Daniel, keeping the vital count going, looking around in wonder, shaken to the roots of his soul. He saw that Teal'c had dropped to one knee nearby, head bowed, one fist pressing against the ground. He glanced around and saw Carter, wide-eyed and pale, pulling herself together enough to reach up and pull Daniel's knife free from the new Guardian's back. Doctor Lee's face had gone paper white, and he stood halfway across the arena, just turning in a slow circle and staring at the alien audience, his mouth hanging open, eyes wide behind his glasses.

Esme Bien wandered up, her green eyes sliding closed in awe, tears streaming down her cheeks. "They are mourning the loss of one of their own," she explained. "Never have they paid tribute to a human in this manner." She looked down at the man on the ground in wonder and said nothing more.

Ten minutes passed. Janet stopped to check her patient periodically, and Jack continued to talk to Daniel, urging him to fight his way back to them. The doctor leaned down to blow into Daniel's mouth again and, after her second breath, the man coughed, sucked in a deep breath and howled in pain, his body curling up as he reached for his crushed leg and fell back against the dirt, whimpering with every shallow breath.

Janet let out a big sigh of relief. Quickly checking his pulse and respiration, she gave a confirming nod to Jack, sitting back on his heels and waiting for instructions from her. She leaned over Daniel and spoke quietly to him. "Try to lie still, Daniel. I know you're in a lot of pain, and I'll give you something for that in just a minute. We're going to take you home. You're going to be just fine."

Daniel's face was screwed into a grimace of agony. He managed a small nod to assure her that he'd heard her, and struggled to swallow his cries of pain, still gurgling at the back of his throat. His body tensed and wriggled slightly, instinctively trying to find some position of comfort, but there was none. 

She looked up at Jack. "Colonel, find me a stretcher. We can use his blanket." She opened her medical bag and pulled out an IV kit while Jack jogged back to the stands to fetch the blanket.

Janet swabbed a spot on the back of Daniel right hand and slipped the big needle into the vein with expert ease. Tossing packaging left and right, she moved with incredible speed as she taped it down and then hooked up a small bag of lactated ringers' solution, dangling the bag from a gentle grip between her teeth. She drew up a dose of morphine and drove it home into the IV port.

Mercifully, Daniel succumbed to the effects of the drug, his body going limp with a sigh of relief. Everyone heaved a sigh of relief as Doctor Fraiser informed them all that he was okay, just asleep. She had to explain again when Jack returned with the blanket, after seeing the alarm in his eyes. Jack just gritted his teeth and closed his eyes briefly, his relief palpable.

"Perhaps you should bring him to our world," Esme suggested. "We may have medical technology you do not."

"After the cool gadgets we've seen so far, I'd say odds on that are high," agreed Sam. 

"Let's pick up the pace, everyone," Janet advised brusquely, moving around to Daniel's other side to slip her hands beneath his damaged thigh. Teal'c helped Carter spread out the blanket and then the four of them carefully moved his limp body onto the cloth. Esme grabbed one corner, the three teammates taking the others, and the group moved swiftly out of the arena, headed for the stargate and Rouen.

~~**~~

"DAMN Jackson, you know how to make a hell of an entrance, too," Jack said wearily as he walked beside the wheeled hospital bed on which Daniel reclined, headed for home at last after two days of care under the Rouenese medical staff, with Doctor Fraiser looking on and learning. O'Neill glanced up at Carter. "I guess this counts as life number seven, huh?"

Sam smiled down at her injured teammate. "That leaves you with two more, pussycat. It's a good thing I had Siler take extra pictures of you, Daniel. Looks like you get another photo up on your wall."

"Do we have to?" groaned Daniel. 

"Since I didn't officially declare you dead, maybe we can skip it," Janet teased with a smile. She turned to Sam, who walked on the right side of the bed, pushing it along toward the Rouenese stargate dome. "What do you think, Sam?"

She shrugged, still grinning. "The _séréf_ honored you as one of their heroic dead. I'm thinking it counts." Her eyes grew haunted for a moment as she remembered that chorus on the battlefield. "That song they sang was something… _incredible_ , Daniel. Wish you could've heard it."

He didn't want to tell her that he _had_ heard it, floating above his body, looking down at them as they worked on him. There was a lot about this particular adventure that would require contemplation on his part, lots of sorting out. Some things, however, were startlingly clear in a way they hadn't been before going to the _séréf_ homeworld. He smiled softly to himself.

He barely heard Janet rescue her friend with a swift change of subject.

"That biologic fragment transporter was the most amazing device I've ever seen. We located every little tiny piece of shattered bone in Daniel's leg, zapped it back to its rightful place and sealed everything up nice and neat in an internal biodegradable packaging that will hold the bone in place till it knits back together. No cast necessary. Amazing." 

She started to get really graphic with the details of his recent repair, and Daniel chose to shut it out to keep his stomach from protesting. He reclined against the gurney that his friends had used to bring him to that world, grateful for the lack of postoperative pain. He wished he had more time to study Rouen, but he knew he needed to get home to finish his recovery. In a couple of weeks he'd be walking normally again, and a few more weeks after that he'd be back in the field. 

Daniel was aware of what the technology of this place had done for him. Had that injury happened on Earth, he'd have lost his leg. The bone had been too shattered to repair by conventional means, but the Rouenese put his Humpty Dumpty back together again with ease. Everyone was excited about potential trade with their new friends, but Daniel felt he had not yet done his part in earning this alliance.

He'd brought the two worlds together, after a fashion, but only by unfortunate accident. He had slept through most of his time there after the return trip from the _séréf_ homeworld, and he wanted to come back again when he could be useful in diplomatic relations. It was a beautiful place, and he wanted to see more of it.

There was also one person in particular he wanted to get to know, but he didn't have a clue how to find the old man without the Guardians' help.

He smiled as he thought about the time he'd spent there. Though he'd had only had a few hours with Arneau, his journal had left Daniel with a great many questions about the old man and his relationship with the Guardians. There was so much he wanted to know, and since Arneau was also an historian, he'd be the perfect man to ask. Daniel was fascinated by what they had in common and wanted to take a great deal of time discussing things with the man.

Most of all, he wanted to learn more about the Guardians, the _illuminatus_ and the _séréf_. That, he knew, could be a lifetime study, but he couldn't devote the rest of his existence to that, no matter how tempting the idea might be. Arneau could tell him much, could help him piece together the many and varied Earth legends that spawned the mythos of creatures like these. 

He remembered the Egyptian griffins, also called _séréf_ , who were the guardians of graves at Beni-Hassan and the ancient Hebrew texts that described the "burning ones," fairly certain that these were one and the same. The Biblical prophet Daniel had had an experience with similar beings, and Jackson promised himself to look up that barely remembered passage to begin his research once he returned home. 

This adventure had been an experience in not judging a book by its cover, for what human eyes saw on the outside of these creatures was a vast misconception. Perhaps human eyes simply couldn't translate all the data and misinterpreted the image in the brain… but Daniel had seen what they were beneath the surface. He had seen through their eyes and been forever changed by it.

His experience with the Guardians was a gift he would treasure forever. The people who lived with them honored and respected them but the Roeunese didn't really know them at all. Even the Watch Commander, the human being given the privilege of a mental connection with the aliens, barely scratched the surface of who and what they really were.

Daniel knew. He closed his eyes and remembered how the world looked when he was connected to them. Everything was made of light. Life was everywhere, glowing and sacred and beautiful. The creatures that looked so misshapen and ugly to human eyes were not that at all, when one could truly see them.

He felt his eyes fill and opened them. The group was just arriving in the early morning sunshine at the big domed building that housed the Rouenese stargate, when they heard a sound and stopped walking. Heads turned upward in response to a noise not unlike the billowing of a huge sail in a strong wind. Esme drew in a startled breath.

The elder Guardian flew in, gliding to a heavy stop that made the ground shake. He stood very still for a moment, breathing hard.

Daniel understood now what it cost the Guardians to move around in the daytime. It was exceedingly painful and was accomplished only by an act of deep concentration and iron will. He sat up in the bed, his attention focused on the elder, whose mental voice he could no longer hear.

The Guardian stepped closer, one slow, thundering footfall followed by another, until it stood beside the bed, eyes only for Daniel.

Jack eased up beside the bed, trying to wedge himself between the alien and his friend. Sam put a hand protectively on Daniel's shoulder and Teal'c straightened up and took a step closer to the foot of the bed. His team was on guard, protecting him, and that made Daniel smile.

"It's okay. The Guardian won't hurt me," Daniel assured Jack, patting his arm and trying to push him out of the way.

O'Neill begrudgingly moved aside about an inch but stayed close, brows knitted in suspicion, eyes glaring a warning.

Slowly the elder reached up and touched Daniel's face, caressing his cheek with a knuckle. Then its finger uncurled and it reached down to the collar of the hospital scrubs he was wearing and gave a gentle tug on the cloth. Daniel cocked his head, trying to figure out what the Guardian wanted.

The creature brought its other hand to its chest, drawing Daniel's gaze there.

"Oh," he said, remembering Arneau's secret. This wasn't something he particularly wanted, but it was a great honor being offered him. After what he'd been through the past month, it would certainly be doable. He looked up at his friends, protectively surrounding his bed. "You guys wanna give us some space? Um, the elder wishes to accord me a personal honor. I don't know why, because I haven't earned it, but I won't refuse this."

Jack looked skeptical, never taking his eyes off the Guardian. "You sure, Daniel?"

"I'm sure, Jack. Just go on inside and give us a few minutes. Don't look out, either."

O'Neill shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his frown intensifying. He shifted his gaze to his teammate's face instead, his voice betraying his uncertainty and a note of warning. "Daniel—"

"Just trust me on this."

"So help me, if I come out and you're bleeding…"

Daniel grimaced. He knew he wasn't going to be able to make them leave if they knew the truth, and he couldn't lie to them and have Jack go ballistic later. "Um, I probably will be but it won't be serious."

Jack's eyes narrowed as he regarded Daniel and thought about what he'd just admitted. Arms crossed firmly over Jack's chest. "Forget it. I am so not going anywhere, now."

"Me, neither," Janet seconded.

"Ditto," said Sam.

Teal'c lifted an eyebrow.

"Okay, me, too," said Bill Lee.

"Oh, for cryin' out loud," Daniel griped. He sat up with a sigh and grasped the hem of his scrubs shirt, pulling it off over his head. He balled it up and held it against his abdomen, then leaned back against the bed and gave the elder a nod. Holding his breath and clenching his teeth, he watched as the Guardian reached out with one razor-sharp claw and began to carve the upright eye into Daniel's chest, right over his heart.

The wadded up shirt caught the trickles of blood that ran down his body. When the elder was finished Daniel exhaled forcefully and pressed the shirt against the wound. "Thank you. I think," he ground out. Dragging his pained gaze up to the alien's face, he saw the creature blink slowly and incline its great head. It gently grazed Daniel's cheek once again with a bent knuckle, offered a slight bow of respect, then stepped aside to let the caravan enter the domed building.

"Oh, _that_ wasn't fun," observed Daniel, pulling the shirt away to look at the oozing wound.

"Want stitches, or would you rather have the nice big scar?" asked Janet with a teasing smile.

"I'm pretty sure a scar is the point of the exercise," Daniel moaned, glancing beneath the shirt at his bloody chest.

Jack just shook his head and grinned as they walked toward the stargate and home. "Only you, Daniel. Only you."

Esme Bien touched Daniel's shoulder, looking down into his face as they arrived into the central room. "I have never known the Guardians to treat a human as one of their own, Daniel, but they do this with you. They honored you as a fallen warrior with their song of grief. They now give you their mark. I do not understand. They barely knew you, yet I who am their chosen one among my people am not so close to them. Please, can you tell me why?"

Daniel stared at her, at the hurt and confusion in her eyes. "I think it's because you've never really seen them, Madame Bien," he replied gently. "When you can see them with your heart and not your eyes, maybe then you'll understand."

Her eyes filled. She gave him a disappointed little smile and nodded. "I begin to see now why you are so special to them, Daniel. You are wise beyond your years." She looked up at Jack and her emotions cooled instantly, once more the Watch Commander. "I wish you a safe journey home and look forward to more talks with your people."

Sam reached out and shook her hand. "So do we, Madame Bien. Thank you for all your people have done for us." She glanced at Daniel and smiled broadly. "We do like to keep him with us, you know."

"Even though he can be a pain in the ass," Jack seconded, eyebrows arching up his forehead lightheartedly. "But he's our pain in the ass."

Daniel frowned up at his commanding officer. "Takes one to know one," Daniel grumbled under his breath.

"I'm just sayin'," Jack declared innocently.

Esme looked back at Daniel. "You will always be welcome here," she told him with a smile.

Teal'c dialed home, punched in the IDC code, and moments later Daniel was wheeled through the event horizon for the very long but very fast journey home.

~~**~~

EPILOGUE

_Two Weeks Later_

The taxi dropped Daniel off at the storage facility around ten in the evening. He paid his fare and punched in the access code to the main gate, hands full of shopping bags. When the gate rolled open, he strode purposefully to his unit in the interior of the facility, setting his burdens down while he opened the lock on the roll-up door. He flipped on the light switch and carried his purchases inside, taking a moment to appreciate the sight of the elegant motorcycle that had been his partner in crime-fighting until recently.

Stepping inside, he lowered the door and went through his shopping bags, taking stock of the new wardrobe he'd purchased. There were casual and dress clothes, sweats for workouts and the appropriate footwear for each. He tried to compact the items as small as possible and figure out a way to strap them to the Ducati, but there was just too much there to carry on the bike. He'd have to make more than one trip, or take another taxi back to the base to get his purchases home.

_Back to the base,_ he amended. Earlier in the day he'd gone house hunting, checking out a little two-bedroom furnished bungalow close to the base. Tomorrow he planned to look at a few more places because he didn't want to live on the base anymore. He wanted a home of his own, somewhere away from work where he could just be Daniel rather than Doctor Jackson; maybe even develop a social life.

His gaze shifted back to the Ducati, and he smiled. He liked riding the bike, the freedom he felt with the wind whipping at his skin. Daniel decided he didn't want to sell it or give it away. He needed transportation to and from the base anyway, and it was economical to drive. He'd have to get Sam to help him reattach the Ducati insignia since he didn't want people mistaking him for his ninja alter-ego, who had thankfully retired, much to the chagrin of the local media. 

He squatted down behind it and peeled the tape off the license plate that had disguised the number and tossed it away. There was no need to hide anymore.

Daniel reached for the helmet and strapped it on, then rolled up the door and pushed the Ducati outside. Minutes later he was cruising the streets of Colorado Springs, no particular destination in mind, just enjoying himself on the sleek machine. Eventually he found himself in a familiar neighborhood, and thought he'd stop by Jack's place for a chat.

Passing a grocery store, he noticed a familiar black Ford F-350 with a Cheyenne Mountain parking sticker on the window. He pulled the Ducati into the lot. Daniel assumed Jack was inside the store buying groceries and would be out soon. He parked the bike and took off the helmet while he waited, looking up at the stars and thinking about his recent adventure through the stargate.

He felt the scrutiny before he noticed anyone watching him. Turning his head, he stared right into the eyes of a shabby looking young man with long, dirty blond hair skulking among the parked cars. Instantly, Daniel was sure of the man's intent: he was planning to burglarize some of the vehicles. 

Daniel got off the bike and stood very still, looking directly at the thief. "I know what you want to do here," he called in the still night air. "I'm giving you the chance to leave with no trouble."

The stranger eyed him uncertainly, gaze dropping down to take in Daniel's black sleeveless T-shirt and jeans, then shifting to the all- black motorcycle, stripped of insignia, an empty sword scabbard mounted on the right side beneath the seat.

"You're him, aren't you?" the guy called back. "You're the ninja."

Cocking his head, Daniel crossed his arms over his chest. When he spoke, his voice was low and dark with warning. "Do you really want to take the chance that I am?"

The thief's eyes narrowed, looking Daniel up and down, assessing. He eyed Daniel's glasses, the muscles showing beneath his T-shirt sleeves, and the wide stance of his strong legs. Finally, the hood shrugged, sauntered over to his car and got the hell outta Dodge.

Daniel kept his eyes on the guy until he was out of sight, then shook his head, grinning. Obviously the Springs still needed a ninja. Too bad he was permanently retired, but something in Daniel's attitude about himself had changed. He knew in the future he would be bolder, more aware, more willing to get involved. It would have to be enough. He'd keep his eyes open, and he'd call the police when it was prudent. He'd vowed to himself and promised Jack to never again put himself in harm's way unless there was no other choice. He took enough chances at work

"Tell me I didn't just see what I just saw," called an all too familiar, thoroughly irritated voice from the end of the row of cars. Jack stood there with two large bags of groceries in his arms, frowning mightily.

_Busted._

His head whipped around guiltily. "Uh, that guy was looking for a car to burgle," Daniel explained, pointing toward the street. "Did you want me to just let him get into your truck?"

Jack strode up to his Ford and set the bags into the back. He walked across to the next row of parking spaces to where Daniel waited, arms wrapped gently around his ribs, butt leaning against the Ducati's leather seat. Jack shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans looked him up and down. "I thought we'd agreed on retirement."

As always, when in a public place, Jack was careful with his words.

"We did," Daniel assured him, nodding, "but I'm still a citizen. I can look out for my fellow man if I stumble onto a crime in progress." He grinned. "I just can't beat them to the punch anymore."

"You're sure? No hangover intuition?"

"Nope. I'm just me. Same old Daniel you've always known."

Jack shook his head. "No, you're not, you know." His eyes were assessing, measuring. "You're a far different man than the one I met in the mountain eight years ago. That guy I didn't trust at my back. This one I do."

Daniel smiled. For a moment, neither one spoke, the easy familiarity of their early years completely restored between them. He stepped away from the seat, took the helmet in hand and grinned even wider. "So, you wanna take her for a spin?" He held the helmet out to his friend, fully aware that Jack had a license to drive motorcycles as well as standard motor vehicles.

"Sweet!" Jack chirped, snatching the helmet and throwing a long leg over the seat. He tossed his truck keys to Daniel with a rakish grin. "Take my groceries home and I'll meetcha there... in an hour or two."

Walking toward the F-350, Daniel called over his shoulder. "Put some gas in it, willya? She likes the good stuff." 

He didn't wait to hear Jack carp over the nearly empty tank, just chuckled to himself and drove to Jack's place. He used his key to open the door, carried the groceries inside and started putting them away. He made himself at home, wandering around the living room, looking at Jack's collection of medals and family pictures.

The photo of himself as a child with his parents caught his eye and he went to it, picking it up and remembering that day it had been taken, in rural Italy at a dig. It touched him that Jack had kept the photo after his ascension. His friend had tried to give it back once Daniel returned, but he wasn't ready for personal things that had so much pain behind them. That was also why he'd left that photo of Sha're in Teal'c's room, where it wouldn't be a constant reminder of what he'd lost and how he'd failed those he had loved so deeply.

Now, he thought, he just might be ready to let the past back in, with all its pain and joy. He was ready to start living again, to take his place in his world as a new man. It was time to start over, and he was already making the first tentative steps toward that destination.

"Holy shit! That mother can _mooooove_!" Jack shouted as he burst through the front door. He stomped into the living room, hair sticking up all over, face pink from the wind, mouth stretched into the widest smile Daniel had ever seen on him. "God, Danny, you cannot get rid of that thing! Unless you give it to me."

"I'm glad you like it, Jack, because I'm keeping it. I'm kinda fond of it, too." He grinned back. "She's hot, isn't she?"

"Can I borrow it sometimes? Cause I just know you'll neglect it and every now and then, they need to be ridden flat out, roaring at the road." Jack's eyes were glowing with excitement. He was pacing, too wired to stand still.

"Sometimes," Daniel promised, "but you _have_ to wear the helmet, and I can tell by your hair that you didn't."

"Okay, I confess." Another huge grin split Jack's face. "But it was _sweeeeet_!" Jack's voice went into a high-pitched screech of enthusiasm on that last word, his body doing an excited little twisting dance, yanking his cocked fist into his side. 

He straightened up, suddenly totally casual and relaxed. "So, what's for dinner?"

"You borrow my bike and expect me to make you _dinner_? No way. Putting your groceries away was enough. You cook."

"I'll order out."

Jack pulled out his cell phone.

"Jack, you just bought groceries," Daniel argued. "Use what you bought."

"Yeah, Joey, this is Colonel O'Neill. I'd like my regular pizza but add a medium Hawaiian. I've got company tonight." Jack glanced at Daniel. "Yeah, it has been a while since my buddy was here, but he's back and we're celebrating. _Grazi, paisan_." He flipped his cell phone shut and shoved it into his pants pocket. "Wanna beer?"

"Got any wine open?"

"No, but open a bottle. You can stay in the spare room tonight."

Daniel looked at the picture still in his hands. "Jack, I think I'm ready to have this back now, if you don't mind. And I'll be needing help to move to a new place soon. Maybe a house, this time. A real home of my own, with a yard and everything."

Jack didn't say anything, just wandered up beside him as he stood by the fireplace. "I kept some of your other stuff, too," he admitted quietly. "Things I couldn't decide what to do with. Like all those swords you used to have on the walls of your loft." He turned to look at his younger friend, his face composed, giving nothing away. "You really know how to use those things, don't you?"

Daniel turned to look into Jack's eyes. "The basic principles of knife fighting apply to a sword as well. The longer blade just increases your reach." He shrugged. "You know what a history buff I am, Jack. I know the rules of the Hounds and Jackals game you gave to the Denver museum. I taught myself how to play the sitar that used to hang on my wall, read every book in my libraries at home and in my office… and, yes, I learned the sword fighting methods of every culture represented by those weapons in my loft. It's part of my nature."

"I know." Jack's eyes were filled with admiration and concern. "Sometimes your nature makes me worry about you. I mean, I know you can take care of yourself. _Now_." A lazy smile crossed his face and his eyes twinkled. "It's the dumb shit who's stupid enough to try to take you on that oughtta worry me. For cryin' out loud, Daniel, you almost killed a gargoyle!"

"It killed me, actually."

"Only for a little while."

Daniel chuckled and shook his head. The smile faded as a memory lit up his mind, and he closed his eyes, tipping his head back, letting it fill him up inside. When he spoke, his voice was low and soft. "I did some research while I was healing, Jack, and I found this passage in the Bible, from the book of Daniel. ` _As I was standing on the bank of the great river… I looked up and there before me was a man dressed in linen, with a belt of the finest gold around his waist. His body was like chrysolite, his face like lightning, his eyes like flaming torches, his arms and legs like the gleam of burnished bronze, and his voice like the sound of a multitude. I, Daniel, was the only one who saw the vision; the men with me did not see it, but such terror overwhelmed them that they fled and hid themselves. So I was left alone, gazing at this great vision; I had no strength left, my face turned deathly pale and I was helpless._ ' " He opened his eyes and strolled away a few steps, still thinking.

"I get the feelin' you're trying to tell me something." Jack turned around and leaned against the mantel, stuffing his hands in his trouser pockets.

"Did Esme tell you the source of those recordings they showed us?" Daniel lowered his head and strolled into the kitchen with his friend behind him.

"I didn't ask." Jack shrugged, then opened the refrigerator and snagged a beer. "Not much interested in the technical stuff. You know me."

Nodding, Daniel opened up the wine cabinet, selected a bottle and took it to the kitchen counter. "They have devices for memory retrieval on Rouen. Those were memories we were watching, Jack. Memories of the Guardians, seen through their eyes."

Jack opened the beer, wiped the top of the bottle in his clenched fist and put it to his lips while he thought about that announcement. 

"I'm still amazed at some of the stuff you did during that fight, Daniel. You'd make a helluva hockey player." 

He took another sip and leaned against the counter next to where Daniel was unwrapping the neck of the bottle of Merlot. "When they showed us the playback… you remember how you looked? All glowy and bright?"

Daniel nodded, reaching into the silverware drawer for the corkscrew. "Yeah."

"That's what we saw when you ascended." Jack's voice was suddenly deeper, softer. "Carter, Teal'c and me… we don't look like that. Not so bright and shiny. Not so pure."

Laying the corkscrew on the counter, Daniel turned to face his friend. "I'm not pure, Jack. I've got my share of faults and darkness that I deal with, just like you do."

"Maybe, but you're much closer to…" Jack hesitated, steeled himself, and plunged onward. "…to what _they_ are than the rest of us."

Daniel cocked his head, leaning on the counter with one hand. There was something about that look that Jack had given him, the way he'd said it that touched off a spark in Daniel's mind. "What did you see in the arena, Jack?" he asked quietly.

"My best friend kickin' gargoyle ass," he shot back, looking away to take another sip of beer. He looked down at the bottle in his hand and started digging at the label with his fingernail. "And getting his ass kicked." He looked like he was avoiding something, trying not to answer Daniel's question but to pacify him.

"What did you _see_ , Jack?"

O'Neill stepped away from the counter and wandered back into the living room. He stood in front of the sofa with his back to his guest, bottle braced against his hip, facing the big windows that reflected his own image back against the darkened yard. He eyed Daniel's reflection behind and a little beside him in the window. "You saw `em, didn't you? I mean, what they _really_ looked like, right?"

Daniel nodded, warmed by the memory. "Yes, I did. Did you?"

Jack shook his head, returning his gaze to his darkened yard. "No... but I heard their song when your heart stopped beating."

"And you knew what they were then?"

The older man's chin lifted as he swallowed hard. He hesitated, his voice rough and raw when he spoke. " _Oh_ , yeah. There could only be one explanation for a sound like that, Daniel. I used to hear priests talk about it in church, but I never thought I'd ever hear it and still be drawing breath."

Daniel came up beside him, gently laying his hand on Jack's shoulder. "What were they, Jack? I need to hear you say it, so I know that you know."

Jack O'Neill tipped his head back, remembering that sound in the arena. A trembling smile toyed at the corners of his mouth. "I think that… maybe… they might have been… angels, Danny. Mourning the loss of one of their own." He looked at his friend, his gaze steady and clear. "Everybody there got that but the Watch Commander. She couldn't see what was right in front of her. The rest of us… yeah. We got it. We _know_."

Squeezing Jack's shoulder slightly, Daniel moved away, heading for the door. "I'm not an angel, Jack. I never was."

"Daniel." 

He turned around to see Jack facing him, eyes full of respect and hope and friendship. "You will be, one day. Let's just not make it real soon, okay?" Jack said gently.

The younger man looked at his friend and saw, for the flash of an instant, a brilliant white light shining in his eyes in the shape of Jack O'Neill, unsure if it was a memory of the man in the storage cubicle as Daniel had seen him then, or something left over by the _illuminatus_ , some hidden ability that might give him a little more insight into others around him. He'd wait and see. If the visual disturbance lingered, he'd be sure to tell his friends in case they needed to make another trip back to Rouen. Something told him that was all gone… but the memories he carried now were priceless.

Daniel smiled and stuck his hand in his back pocket, reaching for his wallet to pay the pizza delivery man coming up the front walk toward the house. He turned away, a feeling of certainty filling him up with warmth and joy. "You will be, too, Jack. Trust me on that."

**The End**

* * *

Additional notes for those interested:  
[ http://members.tripod.com/seventime/AngelsCherubs.html](http://members.tripod.com/seventime/AngelsCherubs.html)

Biblical quotation from Old Testament, Book of Daniel 10:4-8, NIV.

Seraphim is a Hebrew term for "burning ones." This title probably refers neither to fire as we know it nor to the consuming judgment. Rather, it expresses the passionate devotion of a particular order of angelic beings to praise and proclaim all creation. God's holiness and majesty.

[ http://www.newadvent.org/cathen/13725b.htm](http://www.newadvent.org/cathen/13725b.htm)

On each side of the throne stood mysterious guardians, each supplied with six wings: two to bear them up, two veiling their faces, and two covering their feet, now naked, as became priestly service in the presence of the Almighty.

Although described under a human form, with faces, hands, and feet (Is., vi, 2, 6), they are undoubtedly existing spiritual beings corresponding to their name, and not mere symbolic representations as is often asserted by advanced Protestant scholars. Their number is considerable, as they appear around the heavenly throne in a double choir and the volume of their chorus is such that the sound shakes the foundations of the palace.

Their name too, seraphim, distinguishes them from the cherubim, although it is confessedly difficult to obtain from the single Scriptural passage wherein these beings are mentioned a clear conception of its precise meaning. The name is oftentimes derived from the Hebrew verb saraph ("to consume with fire"), and this etymology is very probable because of its accordance with Isa., vi, 6, where one of the seraphim is represented as carrying celestial fire from the altar to purify the Prophet's lips. Many scholars prefer to derive it from the Hebrew noun saraph, "a fiery and flying serpent", spoken of in Num., xxi, 6; Isa., xiv, 29, and the brazen image of which stood in the Temple in Isaias's time (IV Kings, xviii, 4); but it is plain that no trace of such serpentine form appears in Isaias's description of the seraphim. Still less probable are the views propounded of late by certain critics and connecting the Biblical seraphim with the Babylonian Sharrapu, a name for Nergal, the fire-god, or with the Egyptian griffins (séréf) which are placed at Beni-Hassan as guardians of graves.

**The End**

  


* * *

  


> AUTHOR'S NOTE : This fic was Michael Shanks' idea. It came out as his answer to a simple question about Daniel, and the fans enjoyed it so much it became a performance that he does at conventions. He liked the idea and asked for it to be immortalized in fanfic. I took the bait… though I have yet to see The Shanks do this schtick. He probably thinks it's funny. I took it seriously.  
>    As a gesture of gratitude for his sensitive and well-crafted performances of the character of Daniel Jackson, I dedicate this story to him. Bravo, Michael. Ask, and it shall be given you. ;-) But I'm not doing the cross-dressing aromatherapist story, because somebody else beat me to it.  
>    Many thanks to Jude for the astute alpha and intensive beta, and for the wonderful gift of your friendship. This story is many times better than it was, due to her valuable insight. She really deserves an author credit since she wrote 122 pages of commentary on the whole Day/Night series while it was in the works, but modestly declined the byline offer.  
>    Thanks to Shazzz for the always excellent beta. You rock, gal!  
>    Any remaining errors are my own stubborn fault.  
> 

* * *

> © 10 February 2004 The characters mentioned in this story are the property of Showtime and Gekko Film Corp.  
> The Stargate, SG-I, the Goa'uld and all other characters  
> who have appeared in the series STARGATE SG-1 together with the names,   
> titles and backstory are the sole copyright property of MGM-UA Worldwide Television, Gekko Film Corp, Glassner/Wright Double Secret Productions and Stargate SG-I Prod. Ltd. Partnership. This fanfic is not intended as an infringement upon those rights and solely meant for entertainment. All other characters, the story idea and the story itself are the sole property of the author.   
> 

* * *

  



End file.
